What Lies Within
by j4fun
Summary: This is a book seven fic, written and posted elsewhere before the release of DH. Join the trio as they face the most difficult tasks of their lives. Can the horcruxes be found and destroyed? Who will live? Who will love? Who will die? Who will lose?
1. Chapter 1: The Longest Ride

CHAPTER ONE: THE LONGEST RIDE

The ride back to London aboard the Hogwarts Express was passing like a slow dream. Most students were still rattled over the death of Professor Dumbledore and the circumstances surrounding it. There were no secrets. Word always spread quickly at Hogwarts. Harry smiled ever so slightly to himself as he remembered Dumbledore expressing that very sentiment in his first year, following Harry's battle with Quirrell and Voldemort.

That's not to say that everyone was necessarily saddened over the loss of Dumbledore. Harry knew a number of the Slytherins were glad to be shod of him. After visiting and checking on Neville, Harry was returning to his own car when he ran into a group of them huddled in the corridor. They quickly ended their conversation when they spotted him and the look on his face, one that dared them to say another word aloud. Harry knew he couldn't take on the whole lot; but he didn't care anymore. Fortunately, they had lost much of their fire while trying to grasp the part Draco Malfoy had played in Dumbledore's demise.

No one, not even the Slytherins, had trouble really believing Snape had a hand in this week's events. Draco however, was a different story. He'd always been a loud, bossy and demanding brat, full of hot air and exaggerated bravado. His housemates did his bidding because he was wealthy and connected and popular, not because they physically feared him. In their own way they seemed a bit devastated. Still, Harry had no sympathy for any of them and very little time to waste thinking of them.

Some time after he'd returned to the car he shared with Ron and Hermione, the three of them seemed unable to pull themselves out of their own murky thoughts to focus on the tasks at hand.

"Harry, maybe we should go over the things you and Dumbledore discussed, again," Hermione finally managed.

Harry just looked at her, his eyebrows raised. He knew Hermione was worried about him. It had been a rough week and being forced to sever his relationship with Ginny on top of everything else had drained him.

He replied as calmly as possible, "Thanks for offering, but not now, please. I'm not comfortable talking about it on the train, no matter what spell you used to seal this car."

Seeing the disappointed look on her face, he made himself smile gently and added to both of them, "I'll be at the Burrow in two weeks time. We'll talk about all of that then."

Hermione spent most of the remaining journey reading. Harry and Ron tried halfheartedly to pass time playing wizard chess and Exploding Snap. Luna eventually stopped by for a short visit; yet Ginny seemed to be conspicuously avoiding their car. Finally, the hum of the quiet car and its softly clicking undercarriage pulled Harry back into his own thoughts.

He didn't remember much of the remaining train ride until the Hogwarts Express pulled slowly into the station and he could hear luggage being moved around in the adjacent car. Shocked, he realized he'd fallen asleep. He was sitting in the corner of the seat, the back of his head against the window and lulled to the right side, half facing the seat cushion. His legs were stretched in front of him on the seat and his glasses had been removed. Turning his head to the left, he saw blurred images of Hermione and Ron quietly attempting to lift down trunks and cages. Hearing him shift, Ron turned towards Harry.

"Hey, I was just about to wake you," Ron said.

He'd just gotten down Hedwig's cage and was retrieving Harry's glasses from his jacket pocket.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, swinging his legs to the floor and putting on his glasses. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

"Don't be silly, Harry," remarked Hermione. "We're surprised you hadn't crashed even earlier. Ron said you hadn't been sleeping much at all."

Harry stood to help Ron lower the last trunk and his friend met his gaze with a sheepish, apologetic look.

"No, I suppose I haven't been," answered Harry truthfully. "Thanks for making me more comfortable, anyway."

"Actually," Ron said, "Ginny did that. "She stopped by, I think maybe to talk to you," he mumbled quietly. "Anyway, she saw you asleep and asked how long you'd been like that. She said you looked uncomfortable and I helped her move you a bit."

"Oh," was about all Harry could muster.

Ron seemed to understand. Given that it was his kid sister Harry had broken up with, he couldn't help but marvel at his friend's compassion.

Ron slid the door open and the friends took one last look around the car to make sure they had all their belongings before departing the train together.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was waiting for them on the platform.

"Hello you three," he said in his deep, velvety voice.

He immediately stepped to Harry's left side and looked seriously at each of them.

"Hi Kingsley," the three each responded a bit distractedly, as they were a little shocked to see just him.

Either sensing or seemingly reading their thoughts, Kingsley began, "Tonks and Moody are waiting beyond the platform barrier for you two," he said, nodding toward Ron and Hermione.

"Fred and George have just departed with Ginny. Harry, you and I will leave momentarily from this side of the platform once I send Hedwig and your things to your room at Privet Drive," he continued as he bent to release Hedwig from her cage, sending her on her way.

"Wait," uttered Harry, as Kingsley drew his wand and pointed it toward Harry's things. "I'll need to get my Firebolt from the trunk."

"No, you won't," answered Kingsley simply as he stood straight and with one silent swish of his wand, Harry's possessions disappeared.

"I understand you have as much a knack for Apparating as you do for flying that Firebolt of yours," he added with an ever so slight and fleeting smile to his lips.

"But he's not seventeen yet," interjected Ron, with Hermione standing beside him looking a bit concerned by Kingsley's oversight of the rules.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" asked Kingsley, his voice lowering to a deep whisper.

"Things are different," he added. "The Ministry is up to its eyeballs in disaster. It doesn't have time to worry about the small things. Getting Harry to safety as quickly as possible is my charge and I'll be damned if bureaucratic nonsense will get in the way."

Turning to Harry, he said "Trust me, Potter. We need to move quickly."

Harry nodded once.

"He's right, guys," he said facing his friends with a firm look upon his face. "Once you two get through the barrier, Kingsley and I need to go. We'll talk soon."

Ron nodded back and turned, pulling a still worried looking Hermione beside him, walked forward a few seconds and both disappeared with their belongings through the barrier.

"All right, Harry," began Kingsley. "Let's start walking and on my count of three, we'll be out of here and in front of your aunt and uncle's home."

In what had to be less than a minute later Harry found himself standing next to Kingsley and pulling on his still ringing ears, staring grimly up the driveway of his least favorite place in the world, number four, Privet Drive.

"Oh, by the way Harry, we've bought you a few hours of peace and quiet," Kingsley said thoughtfully.

"Sorry," said Harry curiously.

Kingsley went on to explain, "Moody paid your relatives a little visit earlier this morning. Let's just say they eventually agreed to clear out for the day and spend some quality time in the countryside."

Harry couldn't help but smile deeply as he imagined Moody's negotiating tactics.

"I bet that was priceless," he said.

"Utterly," agreed Kingsley. "Come on, let's get inside. There are some things we need to discuss."

"Yeah, okay. I kind of gathered as much at King's Cross," replied Harry as he opened the front door.

He led Kingsley into the kitchen and prepared tea and sandwiches for them both. They sat together at the table with the late afternoon sun glinting off Aunt Petunia's spotless appliances.

"Look," Kingsley began pointedly to Harry. "Scrimgeour knows how you feel about the Ministry at the moment and you know he's not happy about it."

Seeing Harry's dark look and raised brow that clearly conveyed how very little he cared about the Minister's happiness, Kingsley continued, "All that aside, he also knows you are still a target and wants you protected."

"And in turn, I'm supposed to do exactly what for him?" Harry asked hurriedly and a bit irritably.

"Take it easy, Harry. I'm not here to convince you to do anything for the Ministry," Kingsley answered simply.

His elbows on the table, Harry leaned forward and put his chin at the edge of his palms and rubbed his face roughly.

"I'm sorry, Kingsley," he began, but Kingsley cut him off.

"Don't apologize. I'm not that sensitive a bloke," he said.

Kingsley continued, "Obviously I, along with a few others, just happen to work for both the Ministry and the Order. Even though Scrimgeour's methods can sometimes be questionable, his aim has always been to undo the dark forces. That's why we all stayed with the Ministry even after Fudge's debacle. Believe me, if Fudge had somehow escaped being sacked, the Auror resignations would have been flying all over the Ministry. Anyway, our show of solidarity didn't exactly deter our current Minister from questioning Tonks and me to no end, so I can understand some of what you're feeling."

"That makes sense that he would, although I never really thought about it from that end," Harry admitted.

"Yeah, well, at least he's not mad enough to try and get information out of Moody. Alastor's contempt for the Ministry is well known," Kingsley added. "Scrimgeour's on edge because he thinks if he knew what Dumbledore and the Order had been up to and what the Order is doing now, it could speed up the Ministry's efforts. Frustrated though he is that neither you nor any currently identified Order and Ministry members will reveal anything to him, he's still smart enough to know that this Ministry and the Order will both fight the same battle in the long run."

Kingsley leaned forward. His eyes traveled towards Harry's scar for a moment and then intently back to Harry's own gaze. He seemed to be pondering his next words.

"Harry, no one in the Order has any clue of what you and Dumbledore were doing together this last year. We know McGonagall inquired once, and we now know Dumbledore asked you not to reveal it."

Kingsley paused for a moment and then continued, "I need you to understand we have discussed this in depth and no member of the Order will ever again ask you to divulge that information, not ever."

Still uncertain of where this conversation was headed, Harry quietly said, "Okay."

Kingsley went on, "Know this as well. This fight will be long and hard. The Order has always fought against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, and we will continue to do so. Part of that fight has included our efforts to aid and protect you. Don't think for one moment that stops because of our losses. As much as those losses cost us, we must push forward."

Kingsley stopped for a moment to clear his throat before continuing. "I admired Dumbledore immensely, and in the short time I got to really know Sirius, am proud to have known him. They were two of the bravest and best men I've ever known. Lupin, I and the rest are determined to help you finish this fight."

Harry found himself a little taken aback at hearing someone else voice similar feelings towards two of the most important people in his life. His own emotions were whirring just below the surface. Trying to remain focused, Harry was a little slow in processing Kingsley's last statement.

"What? You know…" Harry began, but Kingsley silenced him with a slightly raised hand.

"Listen to me carefully," he said calmly. "We don't know what it's all about, we don't know what else you have to do, and again, we won't ask. What we do know is You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters won't rest until they've gotten to you by whatever means necessary."

Harry knew the last part to be an absolute truth.

"We know you're carrying a huge responsibility," added Kingsley. "Dumbledore had always said as much. He only told the rest to Sirius, and only a few days before the battle at the Ministry. I know that much because Sirius was furious. He ranted about it to Lupin and me. He too, wouldn't divulge what was involved. All he kept saying is you should have been told the full truth. Lupin tried to assure him that Dumbledore had his reasons but Sirius was so adamant, I admit, he had me convinced and I don't even know what I was convinced about."

Harry lowered his eyes for a few seconds, let out a sigh, and spoke dejectedly.

"Funny, Dumbledore admitted as much the night Sirius died. Of course that was after I had a very Sirius-like fit and nearly destroyed his office."

Seeing a mingled look of impressed shock cross Kingsley's face, Harry nodded grimly and continued.

"I was a bit unhinged, I'll admit. Honestly, I wish I'd known earlier all that I know now. It may have changed some things; then again, maybe not. There's no telling, Kingsley."

Harry stood and began pacing the kitchen.

"All I know is Voldemort has to be stopped. I wish Sirius and Dumbledore were still here to help me." Stopping and turning toward Kingsley, he said firmly, "But they're not."

Standing and walking toward Harry, Kingsley said, "No, they are not; but we are. Moody is running the Order now. There was no question among us that Dumbledore would have wished him to do so. Let us continue to help you. We can still work intelligence and security, run interference and give you time to do whatever you need to. If you need more than that…well, I know Lupin is an old family friend and I hope you'll trust, you can come to me for anything. We do know what's at risk, Harry, for all of us."

With that, Kingsley extended his hand and Harry reached to shake it. They nodded once to each other and Kingsley turned to walk towards the foyer.

"Oh, by the way Potter, I certainly understand your desire to stay out of this house as much as possible. I won't tell you not to leave it, so just be careful. You know how the blood protection works. The closer you are to home, the better. Try not to stray too far too often, all right? Dawlish and a few others will be nearby. You need not engage them unless you want to. They're just extra security. Watch your back."

With that he turned on the spot and vanished.

Harry stood alone in the darkening kitchen. He and Kingsley had talked a long time. Imagining the Dursleys would soon be home, he quickly washed the dishes, turned on the porch lights and went upstairs to his room.


	2. Chapter 2: Home Sour Home

CHAPTER TWO: HOME, SOUR HOME

Harry sat on a park bench watching the sun settling behind the trees and the sky growing darker. The evening breeze felt soothing against his exposed skin. As Kingsley predicted, he'd taken to spending as much time as feasible outside of number four, Privet Drive. He'd grown accustomed to the Dursleys ignoring him as much as possible; after all, it had become the norm over the last several summers. This time however, they were behaving oddly, even for them.

He came downstairs the morning after his arrival and encountered a surprisingly happy and humming Uncle Vernon in the parlor. When he noticed Harry standing nearby, he grinned and continued right on humming. Even Aunt Petunia seemed to be expending less energy keeping her lips pursed when she found herself in Harry's presence. Given the encounter he knew they'd had with Moody the previous morning, Harry expected to be made to pay retribution in some form or another. When nothing happened, he just assumed Uncle Vernon probably landed some huge account at work and everyone was in a good mood because of it. It wasn't until a couple of days into the summer holidays that Harry realized the real reason for their upbeat mood.

On his way from showering late one evening, Harry passed his cousin's room. Normally, Dudley kept his door closed and locked for fear Harry would do something to him or his prized possessions. This time however, the door was ajar. No doubt, Dudley heard Harry in the shower and had taken the opportunity to head downstairs for a late night snack.

There was a calendar hanging on the wall by Dudley's desk. It looked very much like the one hanging over Harry's bed in the next room. Huge red Xs were drawn through the days of this week, with a later date circled in a crudely drawn smiley face. Suddenly, it dawned on Harry. He had received an owl from Lupin telling him the Order would arrive at fortnight's end to secure his transport to the Burrow. He certainly would have felt compelled by good manners to send a similar message to his aunt and uncle, or perhaps Moody had informed them on the morning he was returning from Hogwarts.

In any case, the Dursleys were counting down the days marking two weeks since his return. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would have fulfilled the terms of the agreement they made with Dumbledore when they took him in sixteen years ago following the deaths of his parents. They would be rid of him in two weeks. "Well," thought Harry, "the joke's on them." No one knew better than he when two weeks would be up.

Another time perhaps, Harry would have relished making these last two weeks as uncomfortable for them as possible. This summer however, he found he couldn't take it. It wasn't because he suddenly cared about how they felt about him; he was simply very much on edge. He felt raw and exposed one moment and completely lost the next. Catching furtive glances from his relatives or pretending not to notice them whispering about him took more effort than he could muster.

Mrs. Figg, Harry's Squib neighbor, had spotted him the last few days in the park. She'd come to invite him in for tea and company but he had declined as politely as possible. She had no idea of all the things going on in Harry's head; but she knew enough about him and his life to realize that if anyone needed time to sort things out, he certainly did. Today she'd simply walked up to him and left a thermos of juice and a bag of sandwiches on the bench next to him, touched him lightly on the shoulder and walked away. "Bless her," thought Harry. Her kindness meant he didn't have to go home to meals with the Dursleys or go hungry in his efforts to avoid them for as long as possible.

This was Harry's sixth night back in Little Whinging. In a little over a week, he would be leaving Privet Drive for what was likely to be the last time. Under almost any other circumstances, Harry would have been ecstatic by the mere thought of leaving the Dursleys behind forever and probably would have been humming alongside Uncle Vernon. Lately though, there hadn't been much to hum about.

The events of the last several weeks – heck – of the last several years played through his mind like a nightmare caught in a loop. Harry couldn't honestly say if he was grieving or not. He'd seen and experienced so much loss these last years. Cedric's murder a little over two years ago had left Harry stunned, saddened and angry. When he lost Sirius a year later, he just wanted to curl up and disappear. That grief had been so painful. Even now, Harry couldn't think of his godfather for very long without getting a slow, burning sensation in the back of his throat. And now here he sat, lamenting the loss of Dumbledore. He felt completely empty. He figured part of it was still shock. He realized the other part of it was fear and anticipation of what awaited him. Harry knew he had to finish the tasks he and Dumbledore had set out on together. He just couldn't imagine doing it without that kind, nurturing and powerful wizard there to guide him.

With one long sigh, Harry picked up Mrs. Figg's thermos and began walking back home. His head throbbed dully, but this time it wasn't from the scar on his forehead; it was from the hundreds of things hurdling through his thoughts. Harry hadn't slept a full night since Dumbledore's death and he knew tonight would be no different. He wasn't having many nightmares or bizarre dreams; he simply couldn't shut his mind down long enough to give into slumber for any long period of time. The fatigue was definitely wearing on him, along with everything else.

Midway into his second week with the Dursleys, Harry found himself stuck in his bedroom one early evening. It was raining fiercely outside. He was tempted to see how long he could stand the downpour but knew it would be unwise. Even wizards got sick and he was a long way from Madam Pomfrey and her magical remedies. Instead, he let Hedwig out of her cage and watched her fly lightly around his bedroom, screeching slightly when Harry wouldn't open the window to let her out.

"Later Hedwig," Harry promised. "That storm's pretty severe and I don't want you getting hurt."

Hedwig cooed and landed on his shoulder, nipping gently at his ear. She seemed to sense the undercurrent of Harry's emotions. Suddenly, they were jolted from their peace and quiet by a raucous downstairs.

Harry pulled open his bedroom door in time to hear Uncle Vernon bellowing from just below, "What the devil…how dare…Who Inv...BOY, GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

Not imagining what could possibly be wrong, Harry headed down the staircase and stopped midway, dead in his tracks, with his mouth agape. He couldn't believe his eyes. Grinning past Uncle Vernon's bullet shooting gaze, Ron and Hermione stood in the doorway silhouetted by sheets of rain.

"Hi Harry," they said brightly together.

Harry was so stunned he couldn't even return their greeting. Instead he said incredulously as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs, "What are you two doing here?"

"That's what we'd like to know!" Uncle Vernon spat slowly and darkly.

Aunt Petunia and Dudley had come from the parlor and were ogling Ron and Hermione suspiciously. Well, Aunt Petunia was anyway; Dudley was watching Hermione with the oddest expression on his face. If he weren't so startled to see them, Harry would have laughed, especially when he noticed Ron catching Dudley's reaction to Hermione and looking like he'd like nothing better than to turn his cousin into a rodent.

Sensing escalating tension, Harry walked forward and motioned for his friends to enter the foyer so he could close the door.

"And who do you think you are to invite your freaky friends into our home?" yelled Uncle Vernon.

Harry could feel his blood boiling. It was one thing for the Dursleys to belittle and berate him, but he wouldn't stand for Uncle Vernon insulting his friends as if they weren't even standing there. His hands balled in fists, Harry seemed to radiate heat as he turned on his uncle. The Dursleys took several steps back. Ron and Hermione were looking oddly at Harry, he assumed, because of the absurdity of the situation.

"Well, Uncle Vernon," Harry said menacingly through clenched teeth, "if you prefer, we can stand in the open doorway, or better yet, hang out in the driveway sorting this all out."

Harry pivoted on his heels and made toward the still open door, undeterred by the storm when Uncle Vernon began stuttering.

"Wait, boy," he said with forced civility, having seen the abject look of horror on his wife's face at the thought of the neighbors spotting that lot outside. "You didn't say they were coming and we were umh, just shocked."

Harry turned, still looking like he could strangle his uncle. Hermione, hoping to diffuse the situation, spoke up first.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," she began politely. "Ron and I apologize for arriving unannounced."

Ron snorted behind her, catching Harry's eye.

Hermione continued, "We didn't exactly tell him when we were coming because…well, because we knew he'd try to talk us out of it."

Calming a little, Harry finally closed the front door and joined the crowd in the foyer.

"You never answered me, what are you two doing here? I just assumed you'd be coming with Lupin and the others later in the week."

Ron patted his friend on the back and said happily, "We've come to take you to the Burrow."

Uncle Vernon and Dudley seemed to brighten at that response. Their thoughts were more than transparent. Harry was leaving early. This was good news.

Harry however, along with Aunt Petunia, looked perplexed.

Harry replied, "But Ron, I have to stay here two full weeks before I can leave again. Unless of course, you are trying to help Voldemort finish me off sooner rather than later," Harry chided.

Ron flinched slightly and Aunt Petunia made some indiscriminate noise from her spot by the parlor entry. Uncle Vernon and Dudley still seemed pleased.

"That's not funny, Harry!" interjected Hermione. "Of course we know you can't leave just yet. Honestly, we need more time together to go over things," she added significantly.

"It'll be way too difficult to talk freely once we reach the Burrow, what with all the people showing up for Bill and Fleur's wedding and what not."

"So," Ron joined in again, seeing the look on Harry's face as he quickly worked out what was happening, "We're going to stay with you for the remainder of the fortnight. It'll be a blast," he added with a very Fred and George like flourish.

Harry was floored. His memory took him back to minutes after Dumbledore's service. They had said they would be there with him at the Dursleys, but it hadn't really registered.

There were roughly five seconds of suspended, stunned silence before Uncle Vernon let loose, spittle flying and his face turning the color of a pomegranate.

"ARE YOU ALL MAD?? YES, OF COURSE YOU ARE!" he ranted, pacing in circles, his arms waving haphazardly.

He started talking and muttering so fast Harry could only make out a couple of words, like - lot of lunatics, crackpots, and the gallows. Aunt Petunia had clapped her hands to her mouth, as if in some valiant attempt to keep her thoughts from rushing from her lips. Dudley simply looked dumbstruck, which wasn't far from his normal expression, so who cared.

Harry looked at his two best friends again. He couldn't believe they had willingly walked into this lion's den.

"Guys," he whispered as he moved to stand closely between the two of them, "I appreciate the gesture, but as you can see, the Dursleys are having a fit. I get enough grief from them without purposely raising their ire. You don't need to do this. I've only got three more days left. I'm fine, really."

Looking past Harry's shoulder at the Dursleys, Ron scowled and swore under his breath.

"Look mate, we're here and we're staying. Don't worry; we can handle it, okay?"

"Since when do I not have control over my own house!" roared Uncle Vernon as he seemed to be getting over the shock of two wizards telling him they'd be staying in his home and finding more of his usual anger.

Aunt Petunia had managed to move from the parlor doorway and now sat on the lower staircase, head in her hands.

"I absolutely forbid it! Do you hear me?" ranted Uncle Vernon.

"Fine," replied Ron, winking at Harry and taking a page from Harry's earlier handling of Uncle Vernon. "Of course, we can't stay in your house without your permission. Hermione and I will leave right now," he added.

This seemed to appease Uncle Vernon a bit and his puffed up chest began to deflate some.

Turning to face Harry he continued, "We can conjure up a couple of tents and stay outside until the end of the week. You can join us if you like, or sleep in here as usual and just meet us in the mornings. Whichever you like, mate, all right?"

Uncle Vernon was puffing back up again. Aunt Petunia finally seemed to have found the nerve to use her voice.

"You can't," she croaked in an almost whisper.

"Why not?" asked Ron wickedly.

"Because, umh, because…HAH!" Uncle Vernon finally managed savagely, "You're not allowed to do magic outside of that so-called school. We know all about that from dealing with this one, here. How stupid do you think we are?"

The urge to answer that one question truthfully was clearly etched in the set of Ron's jaw. As he fought to refrain from doing so, Hermione continued the conversation.

"You are absolutely right, Mr. Dursley," she said simply. "Underage witches and wizards are not allowed to do magic outside of school."

Seeing Uncle Vernon about to break out in a grin, Hermione added as calmly and quickly as possible, for she too was beginning to flush, "However, Ronald and I are not underage. I turned seventeen last fall, and Ron, earlier this year. So, while Harry can't perform magic without potentially getting into trouble, there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop either of us."

"We will not leave him here alone another moment longer. If you try to chuck him out, we will set up temporary accommodations in the middle of the block. After all, you don't control the sidewalk, do you?" she finished, sounding so very much like Professor McGonagall that Harry and Ron could only stare at her.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were both struck dumb as if hit by an actual spell.

"So Harry," Ron piped in again, "What's a better spot, the front lawn, the backyard maybe, or how about the driveway?"

"Umh," Harry began, still looking from his shyly smiling friends to the mortified Dursleys, but Aunt Petunia finally spoke again.

"Fine, you can stay here." she acquiesced reluctantly.

Uncle Vernon was ready to let go with another tirade but stopped at the look upon his wife's face. She continued as she stood from her perch on the staircase.

"The girl can use the guest room. He," she said to Harry while pointing at Ron, "can bunk with you. You can feed and fend for yourselves. Don't expect any additional hospitality from us. I've had enough of this nonsense for one evening. Vernon, I'm retiring early tonight."

As Dudley and Uncle Vernon had nothing else to add or do, the three Dursleys walked heavily up the stairs and two bedroom doors slammed loudly in quick succession.

Harry turned to look at his friends and all three broke into smiles and hushed laughter.

"I can't believe you just did that," he finally managed to say. "What's come over you two?"

Turning serious for a moment, Hermione led the way into the living room. She conjured oversized pillows and they each plopped down comfortably on the floor in front of the unused, electric fireplace.

"There's a lot of activity happening," she began. "There are a lot of new Order members. They seem to be popping up from all over the world. Moody and Lupin are heading the interviews and initiations."

"Well, if Voldemort is gathering more followers, it only makes sense that the Order would have to do the same," Harry said matter-of-factly.

"Of course, Mum keeps trying to keep us in the dark," Ron said annoyed. "But it doesn't matter because Bill keeps us in the loop."

"How is Bill doing?" Harry interrupted and asked. "Is he back at Gringotts and with the Order, already?"

"He's coming along," Ron answered. "His scars aren't quite as raw or red, but he's still under orders to rest and take it easy. Fleur and Mom are busy planning the wedding, but Dad updates Bill on Order business everyday. Then late in the evenings, Hermione and I walk with Bill on the pretense of helping to get his strength back and he fills us in on things."

"That's pretty cool of him," Harry said.

"Dad knows he's doing it," explained Ron. "In fact, he and Bill cooked up the little ruse together. They know Mum means well. But Bill's adamant. He'd already heard all about the Ministry battle from Lupin; and obviously, he was there during the Hogwarts attack. Harry, even though he was hurt, he says he could hear the rest of the battle while lying on the floor and everything said that night around him in the hospital. Bill says if we are willing to fight like that, we deserve to know as much as possible."

Ron hesitated a moment before continuing.

"Umh, listen Harry, we haven't said anything about - well, you know - but Bill seems to know you are somehow at the center of all of this. He and Kingsley were in deep conversation when we were leaving the Burrow earlier today. We heard your name a couple of times," he added worriedly.

"I'm not surprised," Harry said and went on to tell them about his conversation with Kingsley the evening he returned to Privet Drive.

"Well, that does make sense," Hermione remarked after having sat in total silence with Ron as Harry recounted every word Kingsley said to him. "That's great, in fact."

"Yeah, it is," Harry agreed slowly. "I just need to figure out how to work with them and how much I can or can't tell them, and when, and how, and the like."

"You mean we need to figure it out," Hermione said emphatically.

"That's right, Harry," Ron added seriously. "We told you weeks ago, we're going with you. You're not doing this alone. What, did you think we'd changed our minds?"

"I more like hoped you'd changed your minds," Harry said simply. "This is going to be more dangerous than any of us can imagine. There's no way to tell what's coming."

"Has there ever been?" Hermione asked. "Look, we know this isn't some great, exciting adventure. We know all our lives are at risk."

Sensing Harry's growing reluctance, she pressed her point. "Harry, if you go without us, all our lives are still at risk."

"Yeah, Harry," agreed Ron. "There's got to be better odds with more than one. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are out for blood - everyone's."

Harry was set to argue this point until dawn but lost his tongue and his train of thought when he and apparently Hermione, based on the tears swimming in her eyes, understood what Ron had just said and done. Ron, who, like most of the Wizarding world, always said He-Who-Must- Not-be- Named or You-Know-Who when referring to Harry's most powerful nemesis, never uttered the name Voldemort. He'd flushed only several hours earlier at hearing Harry use Voldemort's name in the foyer. The fact that he'd just said the name aloud without a second's hesitation spoke volumes to the seriousness of this situation, and more importantly, to Ron's acceptance of it and his determination to stand with his friends.

There was no point in bickering any longer about his going on without them. He knew if the situations were reversed, he'd definitely go with them. He'd worry about that later. In fact, sitting comfortably with his friends, Harry decided then and there to worry about a lot of things later. Life was short, and in that very moment he finally felt a measure of real happiness for the first time in weeks.

"Okay, I have one last request to make," Harry said with mock seriousness. "While you are here, I don't want to talk anymore about clues, the Order, Voldemort or any of it. We've got three days together, hopefully without any serious interruptions. I just want to enjoy it and do normal things like hang out, watch movies, and what not."

Now that he'd said it out loud, he thought he sounded mad himself. There was a crazed nutter after him and he wanted to go to the cinema.

Ron however, looked ecstatic at the idea.

"I think that'd be awesome," he said eagerly. "Dad, Fred and George will be so jealous when I get home and tell them about all the Muggle stuff I've seen and done."

Hermione smiled and agreed. "I think it's a fine idea, Harry. We could all use a little break, right?"

They knew Harry had never hung out with anyone, anywhere outside of Hogwarts in his life. The Dursleys had never allowed it and he'd never had proper friends until he set foot on Platform 9 and ¾.

"All right, then. In that case," continued Harry, noticing the late hour, "we'd better get to bed so we can get an early start." They rose from their seats and followed Harry upstairs.

Harry pointed out the bathroom to them and then showed Hermione to the guest room. He and Ron would be just across the hall in his room. Ron had seen Harry's room from his view in his family's flying car the night he and the twins rescued Harry the summer before their second year. He d never entered it, though.

"This is a pretty decent room, Harry, even if it's a bit small," he said as he stepped through the doorway. "If they weren't so ridiculous, it wouldn't be a bad spot to be in."

"Hah," was about all Harry could muster as he realized Hedwig was still loose in his bedroom. She was sitting patiently on top of her cage.

"Sorry, girl," he said gently as she fluttered to his arm.

The storm had ended a while ago and Harry walked quickly to the window to release her.

"Stay out as late as you like, okay? I'll leave the window open for you." Hedwig hooted happily and took flight from the sill.

Harry turned around to see Ron pull out his wand and point it toward the empty space between the foot of Harry's bed and his desk. Instantly, a camp bed with turned down linens appeared. Ron's pack bag stood next to it.

"It's so cool to be able to do that," Ron said impressively. "Don't worry; your birthday's fast approaching."

"Thank goodness," Harry said grinning. "No offense, but I'd go mad if I had to wait for you and Hermione to do everything."

The door across the hall opened and Hermione yawned and waved on her way down the hall. She stopped in Harry's room on her way back and Ron took his turn in the bathroom while she and Harry talked a bit about what they might do tomorrow. With a final yawn, Hermione turned and headed across the hall once more. Ron returned minutes later and flopped into bed.

Number four, Privet Drive was soon quiet and still as the Dursleys, Harry and his friends finally succumbed to sleep on this most unusual of nights.


	3. Chapter 3: The Dark Lair

CHAPTER THREE: THE DARK LAIR

Until a few weeks ago, the abandoned, stone ranch house had loomed large from a hill across acres and acres of acrid, unusable land. It was hard to believe it had once been a thriving, prosperous and self-sustaining family treasure. The last known descendant died years ago and the homestead had fallen into near ruins and remained unwanted and unclaimed. The town council had finally seen fit to demolish the depressing eyesore. The other neighbors of the remote, but otherwise prosperous countryside village were ecstatic to see it gone. Little did they realize, the house was indeed still there and most definitely inhabited.

In actuality, hundreds of candles burned through the darkness and dampness from an antique chandelier hanging in the handsomely appointed drawing room of the home. About a dozen cloaked figures were gathered about the room during the late hours. It was a good thing the home was now Unplottable, for not even the remote location could have guaranteed the heart wrenching and ear splitting screams currently emanating from within the stone walls would have gone unnoticed if only a few Muggle-Repelling Charms were guarding its secrets.

The screaming finally stopped and a woman's muffled sobs echoed through the room from the etiolated body curled against the floor. Her matted hair hung lankly and a wide, dark gray streak ran from the widow's peak at her brow through the full-length of her once silky, pale blond hair. Her face was streaked with soot, grime and tears; and her red-rimmed eyes shone dully through lids that were puffy and tinged with purplish bruises. Narcissa Malfoy was living in hell.

"Now, Draco," crooned Voldemort in his cold and remorseless voice. "I need you to answer me truthfully and don't dare attempt Occlumency against me again. Bella may have taught you enough to deal with those idiots at Hogwarts, but no one is a better Legillimens than I. Rest assured, the consequences will be dire," he added as he lazily pointed his wand at Draco's mother.

Draco Malfoy did not think his mother could survive like this much longer. He and Snape had been summoned to this location after fleeing Hogwarts the night Dumbledore was killed. He knew he would be in trouble for failing to complete his assigned task. He didn't realize just how much trouble until he saw his mother wandless and bound. He too, was disarmed moments after entering the house. Since then, Voldemort seemed to take pleasure in torturing both of them.

"Yes, My Lord," answered Draco in a strained voice. "I am sorry; it was only a reflex reaction."

"So, you say," answered Voldemort leeringly. "Unfortunately, you have proven you are indeed your father's son. As such, I cannot be sure of your unadulterated loyalty. I only kept you both alive as a favor to Severus," he continued, glancing over his shoulder and nodding at Snape, who was standing eerily still.

"After all, he is the one who finally destroyed that foolish, Muggle loving Dumbledore. And while I don't approve of his reasons for stepping in, I can't deny the end justified the means. But understand this, Draco, I will not grant another plea to spare your lives if you disappoint me again. I think torturing your mother is enough motivation for you now, but don't think for a single second that Severus or Bella hold enough favor to save either of you a second time. Do you understand?"

Draco swallowed and looked at his now silent mother as she gingerly sat up and crawled to a corner of the room. "Yes, Master, I understand. I will not disappoint you again."

"See that you don't," said Voldemort as he stepped back and sat in the large, leather chair positioned in the very center of the room. "What have you heard? Will the school reopen?"

"I've made contact with several of my --" He was about to say friends but caught himself and said, "-- former housemates, but they haven't heard anything, yet. They've been told not to expect a final decision until later this summer," he finished truthfully.

"Severus," said Voldemort, "your thoughts, please."

Bellatrix, who had been furtively trying to catch her sister's eye, turned and gave Snape a menacing glare as he left his place against a far wall and walked nearer the center of the room.

Wormtail, who was standing on the other side of the room near the windows, was equally displeased and looked close to tears as he watched Snape.

"As you know, My Lord," began Snape, "that decision will be made by the school governors following discussions with Headmistress McGonagall and representatives from the Ministry, most likely the Minister himself. I confess I do not know enough about Scrimgeour to predict his position on the matter. I'm sure you'll agree, had Dumbledore managed to survive the attack at Hogwarts, he would have fought to convince the school governors to keep Hogwarts open. McGonagall however, is a different breed. She will have polled the teachers and will most likely argue to reopen the school in September, as I'm confident most of the staff would wish to carry out what they believe would have been Dumbledore's wishes. If however, the governors vote to close the school, McGonagall will honor their decision without further dispute."

Voldemort was listening closely to his every word.

"As our one member who once held position on the board and influence with certain Ministry officials is unavailable to us, we don't really have an inside track into the current discussions. Without Dumbledore though, the odds of the school being closed have seemingly increased. Unfortunately, I cannot predict by how much," finished Snape.

"Yes, Lucius's folly has left a trail of problems," sneered Voldemort, "and I do appreciate your assessment. It is my wish that Hogwarts not reopen. It would make things much simpler. However, we need to plan for the alternative, just in case. I'm certain the vanishing cabinet has been removed and destroyed. So tell me, do either of you believe there are other potential weak points of entry?"

"No, I don't know of any others," answered Draco honestly. "If I did, I would have tried them first because it took an awful long time to repair that second cabinet."

"I asked for answers, not excuses, Draco," snapped Voldemort.

"I don't believe there are any other entrances, either" interjected Snape smoothly. "There were several secret passages discovered by Filch over the years, but they were destroyed by natural disasters or rendered useless by the staff once they were revealed. The cabinet was simply overlooked because no one knew what it truly was. It is unlikely that any such opportunity will present itself again."

"Severus, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to convince us not to go near your precious school again," said Bellatrix sinisterly from across the room.

The other Death Eaters looked anxiously from her to Snape. Bellatrix was furious that Snape now firmly held the position of Voldemort's favorite follower. Only her concern for her sister and nephew had kept her anger in check, but she couldn't pass up the chance to point out what she believed to be his obvious treachery.

"And what would you prefer he do, Bellatrix?" asked Voldemort irritably. "Perhaps he should only provide the answers he suspects I want to hear, or simply waste my time in futile exercises. Oh wait, that's what you, Lucius and the others managed to do at the Ministry, isn't it? Do not speak again unless I ask you to do so."

Bellatrix colored and lowered her eyes, but not before she caught the contemptuous look from Snape.

"My Lord," began Baldwin, one of the newest Death Eaters, "why can't we attempt to grab him now? Then it wouldn't matter whether or not the school reopens."

Voldemort rose and began pacing the room as he spoke.

"Dumbledore may be dead, but even from the grave, he continues to interfere. Potter is safe from me as long as he has houseroom with his mother's family. However, that protection will end when he comes of age at the end of July. Until then, it is too risky for any of you to try and get to him. I've no doubt the Order is watching him and the Ministry is frantically searching for us. They've searched every inch of property ever connected to any of our known members. We cannot afford to have another lot of you tossed into Azkaban or killed by Aurors, not yet anyway," he added indifferently.

"We are fortunate to have found this spot. No, we need to spend this time increasing our ranks and planning strategies. We won't get too many opportunities and I don't want any of them wasted."

Draco spoke slowly, "If the school reopens, it doesn't necessarily mean St. Potter will return. I can't imagine he doesn't know the significance of his seventeenth birthday. Maybe he'll go into hiding rather than risk the school being attacked again to get to him. He's thick enough to consider something like that noble," he finished with a slight sneer.

Voldemort stopped pacing and looked at him appraisingly.

"Draco, you should never underestimate someone simply because you do not like them. That is always a mistake. But you are right about one thing. Turning away from his friends to protect them is definitely something Potter would consider doing. It would indeed be a noble and brave gesture, but a foolish one. He may be naïve, and to quote Severus, mediocre at best, but I don't find him a fool. If Potter truly wanted to go into hiding, he would turn to the Order. No, we need to find a way of luring him out, whether it is from Hogwarts, Order headquarters, or the moon. It may likely be the only way to get near him."

Voldemort paused for several long moments and surveyed each of them with his red eyes glowing. When he spoke again, it began in a near whisper that focused everyone's attention on his every word.

"Now listen carefully, because I will be most unforgiving with anyone who defies me. The Potter boy is mine to finish. I may not have ultimately cared who got rid of that old fool, Dumbledore, but I have been denied my destiny for far too long. We will do this on my timeline and by my orders. Attempt anything else, and I will destroy you. DO NOT GET IN MY WAY!!" he bellowed so suddenly that half the assembled Death Eaters jumped.

Baldwin was apparently too new to realize how closely he stood to the flame and was the first to speak again.

"I understand, My Lord. May I inquire though, if it might be helpful if one or two of us attempted surveillance on the boy? You say he is with his mother's family. The Order wouldn't recognize a new member, like me. I would welcome the opportunity to gather any information which might prove valuable to you."

You could hear a pin drop. Every Death Eater seemed to be holding his or her breath. To their great surprise, Voldemort's thin lips parted into a sick smile.

"As you wish, Baldwin," he practically hissed. "You may go, but you must do so alone. Wormtail will give you the necessary information. I suggest you take tonight to think long and hard on whether you wish to proceed. If you are caught or if I discover you have done anything to tip off Potter or the Order, you will regret the very day you were conceived."

"I will not fail you, Master," said Baldwin. "I shall leave tomorrow," he added as he bowed and called to Wormtail. The two Death Eaters walked quickly and quietly from the room.

Snape thought Baldwin was either overly ambitious or a complete fool, but it wasn't his problem and the remaining Death Eaters seemed to be coming to the same conclusions.

Time would tell.


	4. Chapter 4: Figg, Anyone

CHAPTER FOUR: FIGG, ANYONE

Harry awoke rather early the next morning, almost convinced he'd dreamt the previous evening's events. Ron's snores from the middle of the room immediately told him otherwise. Harry smiled and stretched. He hadn't slept very long, but he'd finally slept soundly. Hedwig returned at some point during the night and had gone straight into her cage. Harry greeted her as he got quietly from his bed and offered her owl biscuits for an early breakfast. He silently gathered clothes and crept from the room so as not to disturb Ron, pulling the door closed softly.

Once dressed, he headed downstairs to the kitchen. The Dursleys wouldn't stir for another couple of hours. Harry would have time to make breakfast, clean up and be out of the way before Aunt Petunia came downstairs.

He opened the refrigerator and to his surprise, found it more full of foods than he'd last noticed. Aunt Petunia hadn't gone shopping yesterday, had she? Then he saw it; a note was taped to a second carton of eggs. It was from Hermione and read:

_Harry,_

_I figured you'd probably be the first one up in the morning and thought it a good idea to cause your aunt and uncle as little distress as possible. For some reason, I believe the mere idea of having to feed us would be too much. I've taken the liberty of supplying some additional provisions. I hope this helps._

_Hermione _

Harry grinned and started cooking. At a little past six, Hermione joined him in the kitchen. He'd just finished setting the breakfast table when he heard her entering.

"Good morning, Harry," she said. "I woke Ron a little while ago. He should be down shortly."

"Good morning," he replied happily. "And thanks for the extra food. That was a great idea. Everything's done. If you don't mind pouring the coffee, I'll run upstairs to make sure Ron hasn't fallen back asleep."

There was no need, as seconds later they could hear Ron walking slowly and sleepily down the stairs. He entered and plopped down at the table just as Hermione finished pouring coffee for each of them.

"Morning," Ron yawned and happily picked up the coffee cup in front of him. "Wow, Hermione, thanks for conjuring up breakfast. I'm famished."

"When aren't you famished?" she asked playfully in reply. "Besides, I didn't make breakfast; Harry did. And yes, he did it the normal way, you know, the way we Muggles cook."

Ron looked at his food as if he'd never seen bacon, eggs and muffins before. Then he grinned at Harry and said again, "Dad is going to be so jealous."

They tucked in to a hearty breakfast. Hermione helped Harry load the dishwasher and Ron magically cleaned the table and countertops. All the appliances and gadgets might have impressed him, but he wasn't about to do any more manual cleaning now that he was of age.

"Harry," he called. "I'm going to run upstairs and straighten your room. I'll be sure to leave the window open for Hedwig."

"Would you mind bringing my shoulder bag down with you?" asked Hermione. "It's on the chair next to the bureau."

"Will do," he answered and they could here him taking the stairs two and three at a time.

He returned in about five minutes. "The Muggles are stirring," he announced.

Harry, Hermione and Ron moved to the parlor and took seats out of direct line of sight of the foyer. They were talking quietly when they heard Aunt Petunia calling from the base of the landing to see what Uncle Vernon and Dudley wanted for breakfast. She opened the front door and retrieved that morning's milk delivery and paper. Heading down the hall to the kitchen, she turned her head and finally spotted Harry and his friends.

"Good morning, Mrs. Dursley," said Hermione and Ron. Harry said nothing; he just watched his Aunt.

She bristled and looked at Harry. "Are you going to hang around here all day?" she asked in alarm.

"No, Aunt Petunia," he answered. "We've already eaten and will be going out in about an hour."

"Well, okay then," she answered and left for the kitchen without so much a word to Hermione or Ron.

"Ouch," said Ron. "Is she always like that?"

"Pretty much," Harry answered. "Actually, that wasn't bad."

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks but said nothing more about it. They went on to plan their day.

By late morning, Harry had shown them all around Little Whinging. They'd seen his former primary school, and toured the grounds of Stonewall Academy, the secondary school Harry would have been forced to attend had his letter from Hogwarts not arrived. They ended up in the park Harry frequented. He and Hermione almost wet themselves laughing at Ron's attempts to put a basketball through the hoop. He kept asking why the stupid game wasn't played on broomsticks.

It was mid afternoon when they couldn't ignore their growing hunger any longer. "Well, we can go back home and scare the Dursleys into clearing out if they're around. I don't mind cooking again. Now that I don't have to do it for the Dursleys, I actually kind of enjoy it," said Harry.

"I've got Muggle money, Harry," Hermione said. "You know, if you want, we can grab burgers and things."

"That'd be great," Harry answered enthusiastically. " I've got a pouch full of wizard money on me, but it doesn't do me any good here. I should have exchanged some in London but everything with Kingsley moved so quickly, I forgot about it."

"Don't worry about it. Mum and Dad gave me more than enough. I told them we were going to do some traveling with you. They know about your situation with the Dursleys, so they made sure we'd be covered."

Ron always got really sensitive whenever the subject of money came up. Harry's parents and godfather had left him a substantial wizard's fortune. He would gladly give Ron half of it, but knew his friend would never take it, and oddly enough, would be insulted if he offered it. This time however, Ron didn't seem quite as uncomfortable.

"Fred and George gave me money, too," he explained. "They were really decent about it. They knew we were coming to get you and they just pulled me aside and handed me a full pouch. Of course, mine's as useless here as Harry's, but I'll be okay when we're among wizards."

"That's perfect," Hermione said. I'll cover our Muggle expenses; and if necessary, you and Harry can take care of any wizard expenses, later. Deal?"

"Deal," Harry and Ron said together.

They walked to the village center and spent the afternoon and early evening eating at sidewalk cafes, browsing a number of shops, and taking Ron to his first ever movie. It was great fun watching the expressions crossing Ron's face as he sat utterly transfixed by the latest fast paced, action packed film that was taking moviegoers by storm. He made them sit through it twice.

When he finally allowed them to exit, he said breathlessly, "When things are back to normal and I'm on my own, I think I want to live nearer the Muggles. That was the most magical thing I've ever seen."

It was near nine o'clock when they slowly began making their way back to the Dursleys. In route, they saw a number of brightly colored flyers affixed to store front windows and area trees.

Hermione stopped to read one and called, "Harry, come take a look."

The flyer was advertising the start of a carnival in a neighboring Surrey suburb. Harry and Hermione immediately agreed that the carnival would be the perfect place to spend the day tomorrow. Ron didn't quite know what all a carnival entailed, but he was soon looking forward to it as much as his friends as he listened to them describing the sites and attractions. All the while Harry was scanning his surroundings, checking for anything out of the norm. He kept up his end of the conversation as they approached Privet Drive, but he didn't stop his clandestine surveillance until they'd reached the landing of number four. Harry opened and held the door for his friends and took one last look up and down the block before shutting the door behind him.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were watching television in the parlor. It seemed Dudley was still out with his friends.

They looked up as Harry and his friends crossed the foyer.

"We'll just be in my room," Harry said.

Uncle Vernon nodded curtly, but said absolutely nothing as the trio made their way upstairs to Harry's room.

They spent a few more hours talking and laughing before deciding to call it a night. They were anxious to get another early start with their second day's outing.

Harry awoke about half past five the next morning. Hedwig must not have been back long from her nighttime hunt, as she was still awake and turned her amber eyes toward Harry when she heard him stirring. He moved toward the open window and Hedwig left the perch of her cage and landed on his shoulder, hooting softly and contentedly as Harry absentmindedly stroked her feathers. He spent a long time leaning against the windowsill, looking out on the slowly lightening sky and the silent neighborhood. His thoughts seemed to be a thousand miles away and he was so preoccupied that he didn't realize Ron was now awake.

"Harry," said Ron as he stretched in the camp bed, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied lightly as he moved Hedwig from his shoulder to his lower arm and put her back in her cage. "I was just waiting a bit before waking you and Hermione."

"Well, it's after six now. I say we wake Hermione and get a move on. If we're dressed and out of here within an hour, we can grab breakfast at the café we found yesterday and get to the carnival when it first opens," said Ron brightly.

Harry grinned at his friend's enthusiasm.

"Okay, I'll clean up in here and you can get dressed and then wake Hermione."

The sun was bright and the day already warming when they left Privet Drive that morning. Best of all, they'd managed to avoid running into the Dursleys. Harry could hear them moving about upstairs as he, Ron and Hermione headed out. They would have left sooner, but Hermione insisted on leaving a short note to Aunt Petunia telling her they'd already left and wouldn't be back again until late evening. Harry told her it was not necessary but he couldn't convince her that his relatives wouldn't be concerned by his absence.

Ron remained oddly quiet during this short discussion and chose to wait by the front door while Hermione finished the note.

They reached the village center and found the café already had a couple of early morning customers. The friends took a corner table under a huge shade tree. They ordered a large breakfast and ate leisurely. At half past nine, they began the half hour walk to the carnival grounds.

If yesterday had been enjoyable, it was nothing compared to the day they had at the carnival. Harry had been to the carnival twice, both as class field trips at the end of term. As always, he was shunned or teased by Dudley's pack of friends and avoided by the other students because they didn't want to incur Dudley's wrath. Harry spent both those trips trailing behind either a teacher or a parent chaperon. It hadn't been much fun. Now however, he was fee to enjoy the full experience. He found himself almost as excited as Ron. Well, maybe not quite that excited, he noted with a look toward his friend.

Ron was like a kid let loose in a sweet shop. They spent the first several hours meandering through the House of Horrors, the Fun House and the like. Ron was fascinated by the distorting mirrors and laughed uncontrollably at his reflection in one that suddenly made him look remarkably like Professor Slughorn.

"All I need now is a handle bar mustache," he managed to say between fits of laugher.

After everything they'd seen during the last six years, they understandably thought the House of Horrors was kind of lame, but it was great fun watching little kids' reactions. Hermione spent several minutes trying desperately to calm down the hysterics of a little girl who looked to be about seven or eight. Her older brother was too busy laughing at her to offer much help. He finally came over to retrieve his little sister after Hermione gave him a rather scathing glare.

The rides were the absolute best. Hermione, who hated flying anything, was a source of endless amusement to both Harry and Ron.

"You know, you can just wait here for us if you like," Harry said to her as they approached a line for a rather diabolical looking roller coaster."

"No way," she replied, even though she was turning a most delicate shade of green as she watched and listened to the current riders screaming at the top of their lungs.

"Look Hermione," yelled Ron teasingly once they were seated side by side in a coaster car, "no hands."

Hermione screamed as soon as the coaster reached the top of its long climb. She was holding on for dear life to Harry's left arm and clinging desperately to Ron's right. The wind whipping past them on the steep drop, wicked turns and spirals was enough to bring water to their eyes. Ron exited the ride first and gave Hermione a hand out of the car. Once they began walking toward another ride, Harry noted with a pleasant grin that his friends were still holding hands.

He'd been wondering what was going on between them. At the end of term they'd seemed on the brink of something, but then everything seemed as it always had once they reached Privet Drive. Sure, Ron had looked like he wanted to murder Dudley as he drooled like an idiot each time he saw Hermione, but nothing else was apparent. Harry wondered if they were afraid of ruining their friendship if things didn't work out between them. Then he thought they were purposely being obtuse because they didn't want to upset Harry. They still hadn't really broached the subject of his breakup with Ginny and he believed they might be trying to spare his feelings or something equally crazy. In either case, he was pleased to see that whatever had been brewing was indeed still there. He'd leave them to find their own way on this one.

By mid afternoon, the friends were famished and went to find seats at a huge, tented eatery. They indulged in hotdogs, burgers, fries, lemonade and cotton candy, talking eagerly about the stuff they still wanted to see and do.

It was time for the carnival games. They'd heard some people complaining about the games, even speculating that they were rigged. It didn't seem to matter for Ron or Harry. Ron won a gigantic stuffed bear for Hermione at a horseshoe toss game, and Harry seemed unbeatable at the shooting galleries. He suspected his Seeker skills had given him an unusual edge. There was soon a pile of prizes around him and a crowd of onlookers was beginning to form. Not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, he asked Hermione to pick out which prize she wanted. Harry and Ron laughed as she gleefully chose a stuffed unicorn. They distributed the remaining prizes to younger kids in the crowd and then hurried off in the opposite direction.

They were exhausted by early evening, but were having too much fun to put an end to their day. They wandered about for another couple of hour, watching the carnival lights and some early fireworks and then decided to head back to the Dursleys. They had about an hour's or so walk ahead of them. Ducking behind an employee tent, Hermione quickly sent the prizes off to Privet Drive.

"Those are rather big and a bit awkward; we'll get back sooner without all of that," she explained.

"Good idea," said Harry.

However, he had his own reasons for thinking so. The hair seemed to be standing up on the back of his neck. He'd experienced the same feeling yesterday.

They laughed and teased each other relentlessly on the walk back to Privet Drive. The sky was darkening rather quickly now. Although Harry was laughing, he was also very much alert. The hand in his right pocket was wrapped carefully around his wand. He was certain someone was watching them from across the street. It was a stranger.

Realizing he'd been spotted, the man nodded toward Harry and jerked his head a bit to the left. Harry turned slightly, and saw Dawlish about a block ahead. His slight bow toward Harry told him the stranger was with either an Auror or Order member and posed no threat. Still keeping pace with his friends, Harry discreetly looked back at the stranger. The man quickly flashed three fingers at his side and continued on his side of the street. Harry understood he had three guards. If Dawlish was up ahead and the stranger to their side, then there was one more guard somewhere behind them. He wondered who it was, but didn't dare turn around. Kingsley was right; he did indeed need them and was glad to have their help.

Once safely back on Privet Drive, the friends were met in the middle of the street by Mrs. Figg.

"Well, hello there," she said to them.

"Hi, Mrs. Figg," said Harry. "I don't believe you've ever actually met my friends, Ron and Hermione."

"No, no, I haven't," she said quickly. "Glad to meet you both," she continued. "Let's keep walking," she said even faster. "I got word you were headed this way. You need to come with me for a few minutes," added Mrs. Figg, as she led them up the walk of her home.

Once inside, she motioned them to her doily covered living room and left them for a couple of moments. Ron and Hermione were looking around in amazement. They'd heard all about Harry's Squib neighbor these last two years. Mrs. Figg returned with a tea server and cookies for them.

"Make yourselves comfortable," she said. "I don't imagine it'll take too long."

Harry was about to ask what wouldn't take too long, when his question was answered. Hedwig arrived down Mrs. Figg's fireplace and dropped a red envelope in Harry's lap. She perched herself comfortably over Harry's shoulder on the back of the wing chair in which he sat. A couple of Mrs. Figg's cats had crept into the room, but one look at Hedwig's imperious glare sent them scampering out again.

Harry's envelope opened of its own accord. Although it was a howler, the voice within was pleasant, though definitely firm. It was Lupin's voice they heard:

_Harry,_

_I'm glad Ron and Hermione are with you. From the reports received today, please know I am also happy to hear you are managing to find some enjoyment during this time._

_Kingsley and I were told you spotted your tail earlier this evening and handled yourself impressively. Good job. It's important that you stay alert, no matter what else is going on. Your rear tail thought she saw something suspicious as you were leaving the fair grounds. As we can't be sure of anything at the moment, I need you to listen carefully and do everything I say. _

_A guard will signal Mrs. Figg when everything is clear. You are not to leave her home until she says so. Tomorrow is your last day with your aunt and uncle and it would be best if you three stayed closer to home. You may hang out in your usual local haunts, just stay clear of the village and the larger Surrey area. We'll be in contact again tomorrow._

_If you need to reach me before then, send word with Hedwig or see Mrs. Figg._

_I shall see you very soon. _

"What tail is he talking about?" asked Hermione almost at once. "You saw someone following us? Why didn't you say anything?" she added, slightly put out.

"Look," said Harry slowly. "I thought I saw someone watching us from across the street. It turns out I was right. I knew he was with the Order or the Ministry when he pointed out Dawlish, who signaled at me. The entire exchange took less than a minute. I thought it best not to draw any unnecessary attention, as I had no idea who or what else might be nearby. I was going to fill you in once we reached the house, but obviously the Order beat me to it."

"Sorry," mumbled Hermione. "I guess I'm a little unnerved that neither of us saw anything."

"Some help we're going to be if we can't even spot a stupid Order tail," said Ron.

"That tail wasn't stupid," replied Harry. "They'd probably been nearby most of the day. I only noticed the one on the way home. I suppose we would have eventually spotted Dawlish, but I have no clue who that third tail was. Do you know who she is or what made her suspicious?" he asked Mrs. Figg.

"No, but I'm sure Remus will fill you in," replied Mrs. Figg. What looked like a brief flash of yellow lightening lit the night sky. "Now enough questions, let's get you home."

They said goodnight to Mrs. Figg at the driveway to number four.

"There's no reason for you to be stuck here tomorrow," she said. "If you don't mind hanging around an old lady, I'd be happy to have you spend the day at my place tomorrow," she offered tentatively.

"That'd be really nice," said Hermione smiling.

"Good, I'll have breakfast ready around eight." Mrs. Figg turned and walked back toward her home.

Harry, Ron and Hermione crossed the entry and could hear the Dursleys in the kitchen. Moments later, they saw Dudley peering around the kitchen doorway.

He ignored Ron, smiled goofily at Hermione and turned to glare at Harry. "Mum and Dad want to see you in the kitchen, now."

Harry knew they wanted to discuss his imminent departure. "You two can go on upstairs," he said to Ron and Hermione. "I'll be up shortly."

Harry followed Dudley back into the kitchen. Hermione and Ron began walking up the stairs, but Ron stopped halfway. "Aren't you coming?" asked Hermione.

"In a minute," said Ron in an oddly flat voice. "I think I'll wait for Harry, you go ahead."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but instead nodded and continued to the guest room.

Harry left the kitchen roughly fifteen minutes later. He thought he heard footsteps on the landing, but figured it was probably just Ron and Hermione moving between the rooms. He walked upstairs to his own room. Ron was sitting on Harry's bed, flipping through the photo album of Harry's parents that he kept on his nightstand, just as he kept it on or in his bedside cabinet in their dormitory. He'd never seen Ron peruse the album before.

"So, how'd it go?" asked Ron as he closed the album and returned it to the nightstand.

"As expected," said Harry indifferently. "No more, no less."

"Do you want to pack tonight?"

"No," said Harry. "I don't expect it'll take too long. I can do it tomorrow morning. Where's Hermione?"

"She turned in early," answered Ron with a smirk. "I think that second roller coaster ride wore her out."

Ron pulled out his wand and a couple of butter beers and glasses appeared on the desk. "Would you like one?" he asked Harry as he moved to the desk and began pouring.

"Sure, thanks," said Harry. They drank and talked about utter nonsense until neither could keep their eyes open any longer.


	5. Chapter 5: The Pact

CHAPTER FIVE: THE PACT

Hermione made her way downstairs early the next morning and was met by the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. She turned into the kitchen expecting to greet Harry, but instead was startled to see Ron seated at the table, his chair turned toward the glass patio doors that led to an immaculately kept backyard. He was holding a cup of coffee and seemingly staring into nothingness.

"Good morning," Hermione said quietly. "Are you all right?"

"Hey," he mumbled back, almost whispering as he spared the briefest glance in her direction before returning to his own thoughts.

Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee and joined Ron at the table.

"Is Harry packing or something?" she asked. "He's usually the first one downstairs."

She was beginning to think Ron was sleepwalking as he was so slow in answering and still seemed a thousand miles away in thought.

Finally, he turned his chair to face her and before taking another sip from his cup answered, "Harry is still asleep. I woke up hours ago and came down here to think." He studied his watch for a moment and said, "He should be waking at any moment."

"Wait a minute," Hermione began slowly. "What do you mean you've been awake for hours? You are absolutely not a morning person. And how do you know Harry's going to wake up at any moment? What'd you do, set the alarm clock for him?"

"No," he replied flatly to her last question.

He still had the weirdest expression on his face, but said nothing more as he gazed at her and continued sipping from his now cooling cup of coffee.

"Then how can you know when Harry… Ronald, what's wrong? What's happened?" she asked with slight alarm in her voice.

"Relax, Hermione," Ron finally answered, looking her straight in the eyes. "Harry's fine. I just slipped a little something in his drink last night to help him sleep."

Hermione's face was etched with shock, but Ron continued before she could level any criticism about what he'd done.

"You haven't been bunking with him, but I have. He still isn't sleeping. I don't think he gets more than three or four hours a night before he wakes up. He can't keep functioning like that. So I decided to give him a little help, at least for one night, anyway."

Ron could almost see the questions unfurling in her mind as he added, "And no, I didn't make the potion; Fred and George did. I sent a letter by Hedwig yesterday morning just before we left for the day. An envelope with a short note and vial was on top of my bag when we got back last night. Anyway, the potion should be wearing off soon, so I'm sure he'll be down shortly."

A noise overhead drew their attention and several silent moments passed before Hermione spoke.

"That's probably him," she said very quietly. "Ron, I'm worried about him, too. That was a really thoughtful gesture; but please don't do it again, at least not without telling Harry. He needs his wits about him, and while I agree that a constantly sleep deprived Harry is cause for concern, a magically sedated one might not be a good thing either."

She was expecting him to argue and was surprised when Ron simply nodded in agreement.

"I know you're right," he said. "I just had to do something because I couldn't take it any longer."

Seeing Hermione's confusion, Ron sighed and continued. "After you went up to bed last night, I hung around to wait for Harry - or at least that was my intention. Hermione, I was sitting on the stairs and could hear his aunt, uncle and git of a cousin talking to him last night."

Ron fell silent for a moment and looked down at the floor.

When his gaze returned to Hermione, she was concerned by what she saw. She'd never seen him look like that. His expression was a mixture of rage, confusion and total sadness.

Ron stood suddenly from his chair, slamming his cup against the table as he rose, shattering it. He swore rather loudly for about a full minute. While he worked to compose himself, Hermione repaired the shattered ceramic and moved to the counter to load both cups into the dishwasher. The shock and noise distracted both of them from the footsteps that were treading lightly down the stairs.

When Hermione turned back to face the table, Ron had sat back down with his hands hung at his sides, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

"Ron, what happened?"

He opened his eyes, gave her a long, thoughtful look and continued, "They were absolutely horrible to him. He'd always said they were, but not in my wildest nightmare could I imagine just how awful it could be. Hermione, I don't think….NO, I know they don't give a damn what happens to him."

Ron's voice was getting louder as his anger escalated again.

"I can't even repeat most of what his uncle and cousin said to him," he practically spat out through clenched teeth. "Just trust me, it was vile and it literally made me sick. I can't wait to get Harry the hell out of here tonight."

"What did Harry say when he came out and saw you on the stairs?" she asked gently.

"Nothing, I mean he never saw me on the stairs. I left before he came out, figuring he'd need some time to calm down and that we could talk about it once he came upstairs. But you know what? Harry walked into his room not ten minutes after I did, and if I hadn't heard what they'd said, you'd have no clue anything was wrong."

"What, he didn't say anything? He must have been upset."

"He looked perfectly calm. He just said it went as he'd expected. That was it."

Hermione was silent for a moment. "I guess he really is used to it, then."

"Hermione, no one should ever have to be used to that!" he said so emphatically that Hermione flinched and backed into the counter. "Indifference is one thing; hell, we've been dealing with their indifference for three days. But what happened in here last night was nothing short of hatred and cruelty. Since he was already having trouble sleeping, I didn't want him losing any more rest over the likes of them."

Ron had gotten up again and was pacing the length of the kitchen. "I can't understand it, any of it. I can't understand how they could raise him from a baby and not have the slightest bit of affection or concern for him. Bloody hell, the only reason they probably didn't starve him regularly is because they worried someone would have found out and how would that look? This house looks picture perfect, but it is rotten from the inside, out."

"Yeah, it's been a bit much," added Hermione. "I'm just sorry we never tried to visit Harry before."

Hermione wasn't even sure Ron actually heard her before he started again. "You know, I overheard Mum and Dad talking about them after we picked Harry up for the World Quidditch Cup. Dad was really upset with the way they treated him. Mum said it all probably stemmed from ignorance and fear – you know – about magic and our world. I believed it then; but that's not it, not all if it, anyway. It might have explained some of their attitude early on, but not the rest of it. Harry lived with them for ten straight years, and six more summers since. And now I know, the older he's gotten, the worse they've treated him. What could make you hate someone like that? If anything, you think they would have mellowed once they got to know him. Practically everyone likes him; well, except most of the Slytherins and who cares about that slimy bunch of idiots – and that's another thing that is driving me mad."

"What? You just said who cares about them," Hermione interjected confusedly as she was struggling to keep up with Ron's train of thought and his tirade.

"What? Oh, not that, I mean I don't understand how Harry could have turned out the way he has," he explained. "He's a great guy and has been since the moment we met."

"Yes, he's our best friend," she agreed.

"It's not just that. Don't you see? It's what Dumbledore had been saying to Harry all along. He always told Harry how remarkable he was. Well, he wasn't joking. Hermione, after spending a couple of days here, I'm ready to commit murder. Harry should be a stark, raving lunatic. He should be a mean spirited, small minded, sour faced prat. When he came back to the Wizarding world, he should have turned into a pampered, pouting, and attention seeking git like Malfoy. Instead, what do we have?"

Before Hermione could form her thoughts to answer, Ron continued. "I'll tell you what we have. We have one of the nicest people we've ever met. Harry is generous and funny. He's brave and loyal and trustworthy. He's modest to the point where you sometimes want to strangle him until you realize he really doesn't think he's anything special. Okay, so he's a little impulsive at times and granted, it's no fun being the one to tip his temper, but so what… The point is, he's a freaking, walking miracle and I don't think I fully grasped it until last night. And those idiots upstairs who are supposed to be his family don't see it. They don't care anything about what he's about to face and can't wait to change the locks once he leaves tonight."

Exasperated, Ron finally stopped talking long enough for Hermione to speak.

"I know, Ron," she said. "You don't have to justify any of what you are feeling. My stomach turns every time I witness them snubbing him or ignoring him. That's their loss, though. Harry is our best friend and we are his. We are his family. Your family is his family. The Order is his family. He isn't alone."

"That's all true Hermione, but I still can't help being angry for him. As much as I want to turn his uncle and cousin into a couple of barn animals, I really just want to shake his aunt until her brain rattles in her skull. She's the worst of the lot. Harry's mother was her kid sister, her only sister. Harry is her blood. How can she have looked at him all these years and not felt one drop of warmth towards him? Everyone goes on and on about Harry having his mother's eyes. How can she have looked into his eyes for sixteen years and not felt anything normal for her only sister's only child? But that's it, isn't it? She's never really looked at him at all. She doesn't know anything about him. She doesn't know what he's been facing these last six years, how brave he's been, what he's accomplished and what he has to do now."

"My god, Hermione, don't they get it?" asked Ron as his voice rose with his temper. "Harry's been stalked by the most powerful and evil wizard of all times. We know Voldemort won't stop unless he is destroyed. And now we know Harry is the only person who can possibly do it. He's not even seventeen, yet and the fate of our world is literally on his shoulders. He has to face Voldemort and kill him, or be killed himself. You'd think that'd merit a little compassion and concern for her only nephew, but oh no, never!! When he leaves tonight, they may never see him again. And not because he's moving to a deserted island, but because he might not survive long enough to see anyone again," Ron finally finished with his voice quaking and his eyes reddening.

Hermione was speechless, and not just from Ron's rant, but by the mere fact that he'd voiced the fear that was eating them both up inside. Ron always hid his emotions or used sarcasm to cover his anxieties. The Ron she thought she knew would rather have spat up slugs for a month than admit anything he was really feeling. He'd never expressed so much and so eloquently in all the years she'd known him. She couldn't help but feel proud of him in this very awkward moment. He was scared beyond belief and so was she. Hermione walked to Ron, wrapped her arms around him and waited for him to envelop her back. He did, and they held each other for several moments with silent, hot tears streaking both their faces.

Hermione finally pulled back to look at Ron. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and said softly, "We have to stay with him. You know he'll get all heroic and worried about us and try to ditch us, but we can't let him. I'd feel better if you'd agree to stay behind and let me go alone with him, but I know you would never do that. So, you and I will stick together and we'll glue ourselves to Harry if needed. We have to be there to help him."

Hermione simply smiled, nodded and nestled her head against Ron's chest once more until footfalls on the staircase signaled them to pull apart and wipe their eyes. Harry came into the kitchen, looking a bit confused, with his trainers in his left hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to oversleep. We've got about fifteen minutes to get to Mrs. Figg's for breakfast and I haven't even packed. I supposed I could do it later tonight, but I'm not sure how much time I'll have once we hear from the Order."

"That's not a problem, Harry," said Hermione as she pulled out her wand. "Why don't you sit with Ron and finish dressing. I'll run up and pack and straighten up for you, and then we can head over to Mrs. Figg's."

"Thanks, Hermione. You are the absolute best," he added with a broad grin.

"Remember that," she chided back and headed out the kitchen and up the stairs.

As Ron and Harry talked, the door to the cupboard under the stairs opened slowly and quietly, and out stepped an ashen-faced Aunt Petunia. She'd come down and was headed to the kitchen when she heard Ron and Hermione talking. She was struck numb by what she heard and then startled when she heard Harry at the top of the stairs some ten minutes later. She ducked in the cupboard to avoid seeing Harry and having Ron and Hermione realize she'd overheard them. Petunia tried to steady her shaking hands as she finally entered the kitchen. Ron colored at the site of her, but Harry looked unconcerned.

"We'll be leaving soon," he said to his aunt. She averted her eyes, nodded once and turned to busy herself preparing breakfast for Uncle Vernon and Dudley, both of whom were still upstairs. Fortunately, Hermione finished rather quickly and the trio soon headed out the door to Mrs. Figg's for the day.

As promised, she had breakfast ready and waiting for them when they arrived. Harry learned more about his neighbor in those hours than he had in the last sixteen years. Mrs. Figg told them all about growing up in a Wizarding household and finding out she didn't have a bit of magic in her. She'd accepted it long ago and was happy and proud to be able to offer assistance, no matter how small, to the Order. She still visited with her family regularly and showed them lots of photographs of a large, extended family.

It was such a pleasant day and they all agreed it'd be good to have lunch outdoors on the patio. Hermione and Harry volunteered to make lunch and Mrs. Figg gladly turned her kitchen over to them. Before they knew it, they'd been outside for hours, talking, laughing and playing board games. Harry and Ron finally started bringing dirty dishes into the kitchen to Hermione from outdoors, while Mrs. Figg lit a small fire in the fireplace. She explained that they were expected to hear something from the Order before sunset and she wasn't sure by what means, so she wanted to make sure the floo was operational.

As Harry crossed the room carrying platters, a knock sounded at the front door. Mrs. Figg went to answer it and seemed a bit shocked by the visitor. It was Mundungus Fletcher, looking as slick as ever. Harry stopped mid stride as Mundungus crossed the threshold. Ron and Hermione froze when they saw the look on Harry's face and the flash in his eyes. Mundungus finally realized Mrs. Figg wasn't alone. When he noticed Harry standing there, he blanched and began backing towards the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Arabella," he stammered. "I didn't realize you had company. I just stopped by to see if you'd had a chance to speak to Lupin or Moody for me."

"If the Order is still dealing with the likes of you," Harry said icily from across the room, "then we really do have a problem."

"Now look, Harry, I know you were mad at me, but honestly, Sirius wouldn't have cared," Mundungus rationalized. He seemed to have immediately realized he'd said the wrong thing.

Harry's hands were still full and he couldn't reach his wand, but it didn't matter. He glared furiously at Mundungus and the next thing anyone knew, Mundungus looked like he'd been sucker punched and was knocked to the floor. Everyone was stunned speechless.

Harry's hands and the platters in them were shaking with his efforts to control himself. Ron and Hermione were staring dumbfounded from their best friend, to the prone figure of Mundungus. Mrs. Figg had her hands over her mouth, looking very much like Aunt Petunia had on the night Hermione and Ron had arrived.

Finally, she bent low to Mundungus and said in a very shaky voice, "You need to leave right now. I told you, I couldn't do anything about the Order. You messed that up all on your own."

With that, Mundungus got awkwardly to his feet, turned and Disapparated at the doorway.

"Well now, that was most interesting," said a soft voice from the fireplace.

The four of them turned at once to see Lupin's head dancing within the embers of Mrs. Figg's fireplace.

Before they could all start, he signaled for their continued silence. "Arabella, four of us will be arriving in about twenty minutes. We are waiting for a second security check on the Floo Network. We shall discuss other things later," he added, looking pointedly at Harry. With that, his head vanished from the fireplace.

Harry finally put the last platters on the kitchen counter and without a word to either Ron, Hermione or Mrs. Figg, went out again to the backyard and closed the patio door behind him, hoping it conveyed that he did not wish to be followed.

What the hell just happened? What had he done? How had he done that? Harry hadn't done anything so out of control since the summer before his third year when he turned Aunt Marge into a human hot air balloon. This one though, felt different. He could feel his skin tingling. It's as if hot water was pulsing through his veins. He'd scared his friends; he could see it on their faces. Well, Lupin didn't look scared or really surprised, just slightly alarmed. Something was wrong.

Sure enough, Lupin, Kingsley, Moody and Tonks all stepped from Mrs. Figg's fireplace almost exactly twenty minutes later.

"Well," growled Mad Eye, "I hear you all had a bit of excitement this evening."

"It was unbelievable," began Mrs. Figg. "How in the name of Merlin did…" she continued but was silenced by an uncharacteristically severe look from Lupin.

"Where is he?" Lupin asked, turning toward Ron and Hermione with raised eyebrows when he didn't see Harry with them.

"He's in the backyard," answered Hermione. "He didn't say anything to anyone afterwards and he hasn't moved once since he sat at the picnic table."

"Remus," said Kingsley, "you go ahead and talk to Harry. Tonks and I will check things outside and near the Dursleys. Moody, do you want to come with us?"

"Nah, I'll park it here for a bit and talk with Arabella and these two," answered Moody with a point over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione.

"Fine," said Remus. "Please signal when it's clear to return to the Dursley house. As for the rest of you," he said turning to Mrs. Figg, Hermione and Ron, "do not discuss tonight's events with anyone. It's okay if Harry wants to talk to you about it, but do not bring it up, otherwise."

"Lupin…" started Hermione, but he cut her off quickly.

"Harry is perfectly fine and that is all you need to know for now," he added politely, but definitively as he moved towards the sliding glass doors and opened them.

"Hi, Lupin," Harry said flatly without looking up when he heard his footsteps on the flagstone walkway leading to the picnic table.

"Hello, Harry," Remus said quite softly.

He reached the table and pulled a chair around so he could face Harry, and waited. When Harry didn't move or say another word, Remus sat at the edge of his chair and used his right hand to cup Harry's chin, gently turning his face upward. Harry finally met his gaze and Remus could see many emotions swirling in those emerald eyes he knew so well. He smiled ever so slightly at Harry and released his chin.

"Harry, listen to me, please," he began. "We don't have a lot of time tonight. I know this evening's earlier events left you rattled. Just believe this for now; there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing sinister is going on, and it's got absolutely nothing to do with any connection to Voldemort."

A twitch at Harry's jaw line told him he wasn't too far off the mark as to what Harry might have been thinking.

"Your scar hasn't been bothering you, has it?"

Harry just shook his head.

"When we lost Dumbledore and went through his things, we realized he had not finished teaching you everything he intended. I'm not talking about whatever tasks you two were undertaking. I'm talking about very specific training."

"Yeah, when he said he wanted private lessons with me last year, Hermione thought that was the kind of thing I'd be learning, like advanced spells and defenses," Harry finally contributed.

"Well, that's what we all thought. We didn't realize differently until McGonagall filled us in on her conversation, or lack there of, with you. Shortly after term ended, she found some things Dumbledore left behind. In any case, it appears Dumbledore had prepared for the unlikely event that he might not always be with us. He left some very direct instructions on how we were to continue your training."

"And those instructions help explain about earlier today?" he asked still somewhat dejectedly.

"Yes, they actually do. Harry, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Lupin."

"Well then, believe me when I tell you everything will be revealed to you in due course. For now, we need to leave it at that and get you out of here. Are you ready?"

Harry looked into the etched and compassionate face of his father's and godfather's closest friend, and nodded. They rose together and walked back into Mrs. Figg's living room.

"Where's Moody?" inquired Lupin.

"He's already popped over to the Dursleys. As far as I know, Tonks and Kingsley are still patrolling the area," answered Mrs. Figg. A flash or red light streaked across the early evening sky.

"Okay, time to get moving then, shall we? Hermione and Ron, together if you will. Please focus on the Dursleys' living room and Apparate there now."

Harry watched as they joined hands, turned on the spot and vanished with a pop.

"Thank you for all your help, Arabella. I'll be in touch again, soon," Lupin said kindly.

"It's been my pleasure, Remus. You all be really careful, now."

With that, Remus turned to Harry and said, "On my mark…" and a moment later Harry and Remus were standing in the middle of the Dursleys' living room. The tension in the room was tangible.

"Harry, Moody has already sent all your stuff to the Burrow," Tonks said from near the fireplace with Moody and Kingsley on either side of her.

Hermione and Ron were standing near the hall entrance. All three Dursleys were sitting on the sofa, looking mutinous. Harry expected to see them smiling and excited, but they looked near hysterics. Ron and Kingsley however, looked pleased as punch. Kingsley's left eyebrow arched upward and toward Moody. Ah, Harry realized Moody had done more than secure the premises. He'd had another of his infamous chats with his aunt and uncle.

"Thank you," he mouthed in Moody's direction.

Moody winked his non-magical eye in return and stepped to the center of the room with Remus and Harry.

"Here's the plan," he said in his usual gruff voice. "Tonks and I will Apparate with Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger."

"But Ron and I know how to Apparate ourselves. He can't go alone, yet; but the two of us can go together," Hermione added helpfully.

"I know you do, but you're not entering through normal means. We've added some additional security measures and you don't know where to go, yet. So, as I was saying, you two will be going side along with Tonks and me. Once we signal back that everything is clear, Harry will Apparate with Kingsley and Remus. You will need to move quickly because we're only lifting the barriers for a few moments, understand?"

Everyone nodded.

"Harry, you may say your goodbyes now, if you wish," said Lupin from just behind him.

Harry turned to look at his aunt, uncle and cousin. If not for the undressing they'd taken at the hands of Moody, Harry was sure his relatives would be dancing on the edges of their seats. Even though they weren't jumping up and down, Harry could still see the disdain in his uncle and cousin's eyes. Aunt Petunia was barely looking at him. Harry was long past the point of caring anymore. He just wanted this part, at least, to finally be over.

"Goodbye," he said politely to them.

"Good riddance," Dudley attempted to mumble under his breath. He said nothing else as he winced at the look Moody gave him.

"So, this is it, then. You won't be coming back to stay again, right?" asked Uncle Vernon.

"No, I won't," answered Harry as dispassionately as possible.

"Well then, goodbye boy," said Uncle Vernon.

Aunt Petunia was staring at Harry with the oddest expression on her face, but she hadn't spoken yet. Moody took the silence as a signal that the niceties were over, and in a matter of moments, Ron, Tonks, Hermione and Moody had vanished. Harry kept trying to read the expression on his aunt's face, but he was at a loss. Moments later, a spark lit the front picture window and Lupin and Kingsley each walked forward and grasped Harry on either shoulder.

"We need to go now, Harry," Kingsley said in his low voice.

The last thing Harry saw was his aunt's hand reaching up towards the spot from which he'd just vanished.


	6. Chapter 6: Burrowing

CHAPTER SIX: BURROWING

Harry found himself standing in the dark, surrounded by a faint, moldy odor. Pressure at each shoulder told him he was still with Lupin and Kingsley. Wand light finally illuminated their way, and Harry could see the others just ahead of them, in what was revealed to be a narrow passageway.

"Where are we?" asked Harry, Ron and Hermione in near unison.

"You're in a tunnel under the Burrow," answered a familiar voice from up ahead. It was Mr. Weasley. "I'm glad you lot are all okay. Come along; move quickly. Molly is just finishing dinner. Alastor," he continued, "Bill and I have already reactivated the other barriers. You'll just need to take care of this last one once we clear the staircase."

"Good," replied Moody.

Five minutes later, the group was reassembled in the Weasleys' family room. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Fred and George were all assembled to greet them. While Mrs. Weasley hugged Ron, Hermione and Harry, Moody waved his wand and the door in the floor completely vanished. It wasn't just hidden; it simply didn't exist.

"Cool," whispered Harry.

"I'm glad you approve, Potter," Moody said with a lopsided grin.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked.

Harry noticed she wasn't in the family room, but hadn't wanted to be the one to point it out.

"Oh, she's in the kitchen. They'll be out in a minute," answered Mrs. Weasley.

"Whose they?" asked Ron.

As if on cue, Ginny walked into the family room talking animatedly with a woman Ron, Hermione and Harry had never seen. The stranger took the sting out of Harry's expected reaction at seeing Ginny for the first time since their breakup. There was no getting around it. The woman was stunningly beautiful. Harry didn't think he'd ever say it, but Fleur nearly paled in comparison. Judging by Ron's dropped jaw, he concurred.

It was hard to tell how old she was. On surface, she appeared to be in her mid twenties, but something about her eyes told you she was probably older, wiser. She was a little above average height, with a slightly curvy, yet athletically toned figure. She had a flawless caramel hued and cinnamon dusted complexion. Shoulder length, silky and marginally wavy black hair with chestnut highlights framed her face. Her eyes however, lured you in. They resembled pools of melted chocolate, with battling shades of brown and hints of golden flecks. They were large and almond shaped, very much like Harry's. She had high cheekbones, naturally arched brows, a regally angled nose and lips that looked like they'd been kissed by honeydew. When she smiled, Harry could hear Ron's breath catch. Truth be told, he could hear his own breath catch, as well. The deepest set dimple in her left cheek accentuated a brilliant smile.

Harry came out of his slight daze long enough to notice Kingsley had walked up to the woman in question and placed an arm lightly on her shoulder. He kissed her on the cheek, steered her towards them and said proudly, "Ron, Hermione and Harry, I'd like to introduce you to Jillian, my kid sister."

She slapped him lightly on the arm and laughed.

"I hardly think I qualify as a kid anymore, seeing as I'm only four years younger than you. So please knock it off, my darling big brother," she said teasingly. With that she turned her radiant smile on the trio and said, "It's so nice to finally meet you all. I've heard so much about you already."

Funny, they hadn't heard anything about her. Who knew Kingsley had a sister? Better yet, who knew he had a smile as vibrant as his sister's? It was like looking at an alternate version of Kingsley. He looked completely at ease, almost harmless -- well, as harmless as you could look at well over six feet tall with a stare that could stop people in their tracks. His eyes danced though, as he beamed at his younger sister.

"Wow, my brothers never seem so happy to be around me," Ginny commented from somewhere behind Kingsley and Jillian.

"Don't worry," Jillian said in a voice as smooth as her brother's, although far more melodic. "It gets better as you get older. When we were younger, he couldn't stand having me tag along. I drove him batty," she finished with a wink at Kingsley.

"Whatever," he said laughingly. "As you have probably picked up from her mingled accent, Jillian has been educated and living in the U.S. Her inherited, sharp British wit is well intact though, I can assure you."

"Jillian, it's a pleasure meeting you, too," Hermione added on behalf of the trio, as Harry and Ron were still staring from Kingsley to Jillian. "If you don't mind me asking, how is it you came to be raised in America?"

With a nod from her brother, Jillian plopped down on the floor and indicated the friends should do the same. Kingsley walked back to talk with Lupin, Tonks and Bill. Ginny came to join the group on the floor, and smiled briefly at Harry before sitting next to Ron. Harry could feel her eyes on him for a moment before she returned her attention to Jillian.

"Our father, Xavier Shacklebolt, is a British born wizard. He married a wonderful witch named Madeline. Together they had Kingsley and by all accounts, were very happy living in the English countryside. Our father is an exceptionally talented and well regarded wizard."

"Oh no, how could I have missed it," Hermione said suddenly, looking across the room at Kingsley and then directly at Jillian. "I've come across your father's name in a couple of books in the Hogwarts library. He's made all sorts of contributions and discoveries, and is credited with inventing a number of Dark Arts detection devices. The last thing I remember reading is that he was heading the Auror's Office in the U.S."

"You have an excellent memory," Jillian said. "Yes, that is our father. He's recently been asked to take over as U.S. Secretary of Magic. He'd actually been looking forward to some sort of semi retirement and possibly taking up partial residence in Britain again," she added, with her brow creasing ever so slightly. "But now that the offer has been made, we really don't know what he'll decide. Anyway, back to our little story."

"At the beginning of Voldemort's pursuit of power, he and his cronies were infamous for luring other wizards to join their cause and ranks. Our father attended Hogwarts at the same time as young Tom Riddle, but he was in Ravenclaw and in a different year. Dad was bright, talented and at the top of his class. He joined the Ministry right out of Hogwarts and began climbing the ranks rather quickly. Eventually, Voldemort decided our father would be a valuable ally and dispatched two of his henchmen to approach Dad. They apparently underestimated him, or maybe they thought being of pure blood descent would make him empathetic to their beliefs. Our father despises any such thoughts; so as you can imagine, he had no interest in entertaining their offer and wasted no time in disarming the two dolts who'd approached him."

Harry couldn't help but note that Jillian seemed to have no fear of speaking Voldemort's name. "Is that when your father decided to become an Auror?" asked Harry.

"Indeed," she continued. "It was following that very incident that Dad's career path veered to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Years passed and life went on. He'd been an Auror for several years when he met and married Madeline, and they had Kingsley. Voldemort was stealthily gathering more followers, a handful reputed to have been blackmailed or threatened into joining, but many others just itching to jump on the pure blood bandwagon or gain favor with an increasingly more powerful Voldemort. These early Death Eaters always seemed eager to test their influence and power."

"One day, a half dozen of them wandered into a Muggle owned establishment and started causing havoc. Most of the patrons had no idea what was truly happening. However, among those seated were several of our kind, including Madeline with an infant Kingsley, and her younger sister, Caitlin. When a Death Eater decided to cast one of the Unforgivable Curses on an unsuspecting Muggle, Madeline stepped in front of him and a duel ensued. Caitlin could do nothing to help because another had cornered her before she could draw her wand. All she could do was clutch and shield her infant nephew and watch in horror as her sister fought not one, but two Death Eaters. One other wizard jumped to Madeline's aid, but they were outnumbered as the remaining Death Eaters also joined the fray. Madeline was severely injured and died at St. Mungo's Hospital the next evening."

"Oh, no," said Ginny. "How awful."

"Yes, it was awful," replied Jillian. She glanced ever so briefly at Harry before adding, "As you've undoubtedly learned by now, life's ironies can sometimes be cruel."

Harry agreed wholeheartedly and stole a quick look at Kingsley, who met his gaze and tipped his head slightly. He'd had no idea of any of this. Voldemort had destroyed so many lives. Jillian's voice brought Harry out of his own thoughts.

"Dad was devastated. Had he not had Kingsley to look after, I'm sure he would have gone mad trying to avenge Madeline's death. Instead, he took Kingsley and relocated in America. For a few years, he kept a very low profile. They moved into an all Muggle neighborhood and lived rather quietly. When Kingsley was about three, our father met a woman at a children's clothing store. Hours later, young Kingsley had a completely new wardrobe and our father had a date for the first time in years."

"Long story short, that Muggle woman is our mother, Lauren. She couldn't love Kingsley any more if she'd given birth to him. Dad claims he knew he'd found home a second time when he told her what he was. She was understandably stunned and in disbelief for quite a while. When she finally believed what he told her, she said it had to have been heaven and a bit of magic to bring two such wonderful men into her life. They were married and I was born a little over a year later."

"We had no idea," said Ron. "We just assumed Kingsley had always lived here."

"Aunt Caitlin stayed very active in Kingsley's life," explained Jillian. "When it was time for his formal training, our father wanted him educated at Hogwarts, as he'd been. So, Kingsley came back to Britain and lived with Aunt Caitlin at Easter and Christmas. Dad, Mom and I would visit them both at Christmas break and Kingsley spent most of his summer holidays in America with us. I had the same option of going to Hogwarts, but I didn't want to leave home. I was educated in America and when I was old enough, began traveling alone to Britain to spend a month or so with Kingsley each year. My last extended visit here was when I was about nineteen years old."

Harry noticed she looked a little sad when she said this, but didn't comment as he was enraptured by her story.

"Since then, I've managed to pop over every other few years for a day or two to torment Kingsley. We usually meet somewhere exotic for our extended holidays, and he almost always spends Christmas with us. That's really about it. Nothing special," she added with a dimpled grin.

"What do you do, Jillian? Are you an Auror like your Dad and Kingsley?" asked Ron excitedly.

"I'm…" but she didn't get to finish as a voice rang out from the kitchen doorway.

"Dinner's ready," called Mrs. Weasley. "We're setting up in here and the kitchen. You lot give me a hand," she said pleasantly.

Ginny and Hermione hurried off to the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasley. Ron went to help Fred, George and Charlie set up an extra table near the fireplace.

"That's an incredible story," Harry said quietly as he stood from the floor and extended his hand to help Jillian up, too.

She looked up and took his offered hand. Harry felt his blood tingle for the second time that evening.

Thanks," she said simply and smiled. She looked directly into Harry's eyes for what seemed like a long moment, and added, "Let's go eat" before turning gracefully on her heels and heading into the kitchen.

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The Weasley home had been ripe with activity. The wedding was set for Saturday evening, July 26th. Fleur's parents and younger sister, Gabrielle, had already arrived. Needless to say, Mrs. Weasley had her hands full, but she was enjoying every minute of it. She was so busy fussing about, that she hadn't had much time to panic or fret over Harry. After feeding him double helpings of every meal for the last week, she seemed to consider him sufficiently whole and set about doing hundreds of other things. Harry was thankful for the distraction.

The Burrow was well hidden behind rolling hills, but it wouldn't be impossible for other wizards to find it if they went searching. So, aside from the cleverly concealed tunnel, Moody also made the Burrow Unplottable and impenetrable by apparition from anywhere, except the new tunnel. This was no small undertaking, but it was tremendously beneficial. Only Moody, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Lupin and Kingsley could lift those spells. Harry could now roam about the yard and fields with the rest of the Weasleys and Order members without drawing any undo attention, or having to worry much about a sneak attack. He was most grateful. Harry had been increasingly concerned that his presence might put undo strain and worry around the festivities; but that had been alleviated, at least for the time being.

As had become the norm, Harry was always one of the first ones awake. When he came downstairs this morning however, Mrs. Weasley was already busy in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Harry," she said as he joined her.

She had juice and a small stack of toast and marmalade ready for him.

"I figured you'd be the first one down, dear. There's really no need to make you wait for the others to crawl out of bed for breakfast. Besides, I haven't had much time to talk to you since you arrived."

"Yeah, I noticed you've been really busy. Do you need me to do anything?"

"Not just yet. I'm sure I'll be ordering everyone about at week's end, but for now, things are well in hand. So, how are you doing, really?" she asked with her brow knitting into her customary look of concern.

Normally, Harry would have insisted he was fine and left it at that. He knew that wouldn't be a good enough answer for her this morning.

"I'm okay, Mrs. Weasley," he began. "Honestly," he added when he saw the doubt cross her face. "Things have never been exactly normal for me, have they? I can't say I don't have a care in the world, but I've definitely been feeling better since coming here."

"Well, I'm glad of that and you are always welcome here, no matter what," she said gently and reached across the table to grasp Harry's hand in her own for a moment. "Now then, eat up."

The sun was shining brightly when Harry made his way across the large backyard, towards the closest grove. He was itching to go flying, but had promised Moody he wouldn't. Instead, Harry was contenting himself with a walk around the grounds.

"Harry, I was hoping to catch up to you out here," called a familiar voice. It was Lupin.

"Good morning, Lupin. I didn't realize anyone else was out here."

"I was out on Order business and am actually just getting here. Molly said you'd gone outside and I wanted a chance to talk with you in private. Let's go have a seat under that tree, shall we?" he added and pointed to a nearby oak.

"Sure," replied Harry.

"I'm sorry we have not really talked much before now. Order business has kept me away for longer periods than I had anticipated. I also needed to be sure I could get to you alone; but with so many people around, it's been a bit difficult. Thank you for being patient."

"Well, I don't know that I've been exactly patient, more like preoccupied. I'm glad you found me this morning, though," said Harry as he and Lupin sat beneath the huge, old tree.

"Harry, I know you've been anxious to talk about the incident at Mrs. Figg and probably have countless other questions," began Lupin.

"That's an understatement," replied Harry. "I've been trying to put it out of my mind; but Lupin, that was unlike anything I've ever done. You said nothing was wrong, but sometimes I feel like I am crawling out of my skin."

"I understand; and I hate to add to your dismay, but you will need to be patient a while longer until that can be fully explained."

Lupin could see the disappointment in Harry's eyes as he continued. "I did tell you the truth. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You also needn't worry about Mundungus telling tales. Suffice it to say, he is the secured houseguest of a most reliable Order member. As for the rest of it, I am afraid I only have limited information at the moment. Someone else will explain the rest."

"Who?" asked Harry.

"I do not know."

"What?" Harry's disappointed gaze was quickly turning irritated. "How can you not know? You said Dumbledore left instruction and what have you. Lupin, I've got too much…"

"Harry," Lupin interjected as gently as possible, "please hear me out. McGonagall received a letter from Dumbledore within hours of his funeral. It directed her to a concealed room in the headmaster's quarters to retrieve a small trunk. A short note simply asked that she deliver it to me as quickly and as discreetly as possible. It took me a day to figure out how to open it. I was surprised to realize it contained only a single letter, and more surprised after I read it. As I've said, it left instructions concerning your training, but these were no ordinary instructions. It seems that Dumbledore, in his infinite wisdom, decided to divulge only certain information to individual Order members and supporters. It ensures that no one person, other than you, will know everything."

"Are you serious?" asked Harry.

"Quite so," answered Lupin. "In reading the instructions he left to each of us, we are in essence, entering into a binding, magical agreement. Think of it as an enhanced Fidelius Charm. We can only reveal what's been entrusted to us, directly to you. You of course, can do as you like with the information, but no one else can without serious consequences. We are not purposely holding anything back. Instead, we are trying to make sure information is unfolded in the order and method Dumbledore wished."

Harry seemed to be at a complete loss for words.

Lupin explained further, "Obviously, I am the first of this information chain. McGonagall will be arriving here for the wedding and will be the next to seek you out. I do not know the names of the others involved. Per Dumbledore's letter, at least the part I'm allowed to reveal, I will only receive that information after the last person has made contact with you. He apparently made other arrangements for dispatching information to the others he selected to aid you. He did caution that time was of the essence, so I can only assume things will begin to move more quickly."

"Harry," finished Lupin, "I know this does not immediately answer all your questions; but you must admit, it is indeed a brilliant plan."

Harry looked a lot less annoyed, but extremely perplexed. It took him several seconds to respond.

Finally, "Yeah, it is. I don't think anyone else would have thought of it, not even Hermione. But Lupin, there's something I don't understand. How did Dumbledore know he'd have to do all of this? This can't be just about extra spells and charms. This had to have taken an awful lot of planning. It doesn't make sense."

"You are right. I have similar concerns. Although the plan is exceptional, it does not make sense that Dumbledore would have seen the need for it and been able to execute it in short order. I really do not know, Harry; no one does. Maybe it will make sense once everything is revealed to you. For now, we just have to trust he knew what was best. Can you do that?"

"Sure, it's not like I have any choice," answered Harry, a bit deflated.

"You always have choices, Harry. Never forget that," Lupin said simply. "So, let us move to another important matter. Ron and Hermione tell me you wish to visit Godric's Hollow."

"Yes, I do," answered Harry. "I've never visited my parents' graves or know anything about where they lived. I know it probably seems like a risky thing to do and …"

"No, not at all," interjected Lupin. "I think you should go to Godric's Hollow. I certainly understand why you wish to do so. I only ask that you allow Kingsley and me to accompany you, as well. I do not expect Voldemort will be out and about, but any of his new Death Eaters could be anywhere. I promise, we will be as discreet and as unobtrusive as possible."

"Actually, I was going to ask you to come with me, anyway," said Harry a bit hesitantly.

Lupin smiled kindly and said, "How does Wednesday morning sound?"

"I'll have to check my schedule," joked Harry, "but I think I can manage it."

"Perfect, then," said Lupin as he stood and stretched. I'm going to go find Moody and then get a few hours sleep. I shall see you later."

"Okay, thanks."

Harry leaned back against the huge trunk and closed his eyes in thought. An hour passed and he only had more questions than before. Footfalls in the crisp grass roused him and he looked up to see Ginny walking towards him. They'd seen each other everyday since his arrival, but always in a room full of other people. There'd been no opportunity for the conversation he knew she wanted to have. Harry had done nothing to hasten it; he wasn't anxious to revisit their breakup.

"Hi, Harry," she said quietly. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Hi, Ginny," he replied. "Of course not, please sit down."

They sat in awkward silence for a minute before turning to look at each other. There was a slight breeze in the air and tendrils were whipping softly across Ginny's forehead. Her face was lightly flushed and her eyes were bright with emotion.

"I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," she finally said.

"Funny, I was beginning to think I was avoiding you, too" he added.

They both laughed and relaxed a little.

"Listen, Harry," she began again. "You know I'm not happy about your decision. I won't ever agree with it, but I do understand why you think you needed to do it. It took me a while to get there, but Ron helped me see it from your point of view. I'm not here to convince you otherwise or cry my eyes out until you change your mind. The first wouldn't do any good and I've never had much patience for senseless tears."

She hesitated slightly before continuing. "Besides, judging by all that's going on around here and the whispers, you have more than enough to worry about. I just wanted to remind you that I was your friend first, before I was your girlfriend. No matter what else does or doesn't happen between us, that will never change. So, you go do whatever it is you have to and come back safely, please. I've kind of gotten used to seeing you around here," she finished with a warm smile.

Harry was touched. He knew Ginny wanted to shake him until he came to his senses and her determination not to do so only made him care for her that much more. "I'll do my best," he said, his voice a little heavier than normal.

He took both her hands in his own and leaned towards her. Harry brushed her lips with the gentlest kiss possible and looked deeply into her eyes, his resolve nearly breaking.

"Thank you," he whispered softly before letting go and pushing himself from the ground and walking back towards the house.


	7. Chapter 7: Serpent's Touch Revisited

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE SERPENT'S TOUCH REVISITED

The stone floor of the massive drawing room shone brightly. It should have, for Narcissa Malfoy had spent most of the late night cleaning and polishing every inch by hand. The Dark Lord promised severe punishment should her work fail to meet his high standards. Nearly a month had passed and there'd hardly been a single day when she did not merit his displeasure. She didn't know how yet, but she and Draco would have to find a way to escape here. Bella's earlier concern for her welfare seemed to be waning. No, it was clear her sister's first loyalty was to no one but the Dark Lord.

A meeting was taking place in the predawn hours. After she'd finished scrubbing and cleaning, Pettigrew quickly marched Narcissa upstairs and forced her into a nearly bare, cold and dank room. She waited for his retreating footsteps and then moved to the far wall and banged against it with a small stone she'd managed to pull loose from the sill of the single, barred window in the room. She heard nothing and banged a second time, finally rewarded when a similar, muffled sound was returned. Draco was indeed in his room. No doubt, his door was also locked. Narcissa didn't know if she should be relieved or frightened that Draco hadn't been awakened and summoned. She pressed her palms against the cold wall, as if willing her mother's touch to reach through to her son. Oh, how their lives had been turned upside down. Too tired to stand any longer, she dropped to her knees and crawled atop the old, thin, worn mattress that served as her bed and allowed her thoughts to carry her off into fitful dreams.

Below, a handful of select Death Eaters were assembling. Among them were Snape, Bellatrix, Wormtail and the enigmatic Baldwin. Total silence descended as Voldemort Apparated into the room and took his customary seat in the center. Nagini, cold, sleek and midnight black, slithered in behind him and curled at his feet. He looked at each of them and nodded for them to begin.

"My Lord," began Bellatrix, "things are still progressing, despite our need for a more circumspect, outside presence. The dementors are multiplying and are anxious for a more plentiful energy source. I've no doubt; they will come when called upon."

"Good," replied Voldemort. "Tell them my promise still holds. They will have an abundance of souls to feed upon. In the meantime, why don't you point one or two in the direction of those imbeciles who have been picketing the Ministry and demanding my capture. I believe the dementors might manage a light snack out of the encounter."

Bellatrix's wild eyes glistened with imagined pleasure as she replied, "As you wish, My Lord."

"Greyback, have you anything to add?" asked Voldemort.

"Nothing has changed, My Liege," he said darkly. "We werewolves have lived on the fringe of Wizarding society for centuries. Almost all are excited by your proposal. For the few who aren't – well, they can be dealt with. Our allegiance is yours."

"Dolohov?" Voldemort said lazily.

"The giants are less predictable; but for the moment, they are still aligned with us. We have been well served by relocating several of them closer to the counties. They are continuing to cause a fair amount of disasters for the Muggles. Ministry officials are running in circles trying to find plausible explanation for the Muggle authorities and performing Memory Charms. At the very least, we can count on them to distract the Ministry and provide time and cover for us when needed."

"Fine," said Voldemort. "I expect you to keep a close watch over them. Tell them I shall reward their allegiance handsomely. However, if they become too unreliable, we will simply have to destroy them."

"Yes, My Lord," answered Dolohov.

"Very well," added Voldemort. You and Greyback may leave. Wormtail will escort you out. I have additional business to discuss with the others."

"Wormtail, return here when you are finished," he added in dismissal.

Dolohov flashed a sinister look at Baldwin. He'd been irritated by him since Baldwin joined their ranks in late winter. He didn't know why, but something about him set his teeth on edge. Dolohov found him aloof, and he hated that his face usually betrayed nothing. In many ways, he thought Baldwin behaved a lot like Snape. The resemblance certainly wasn't a physical one. Although also tall and dark featured, Baldwin was sun bronzed and had the oddest, saffron hued eyes. He reminded Dolohov of a cat; he'd always distrusted cats. But he was most bothered by how quickly Baldwin had wormed his way into Voldemort's inner circle. So what, he'd managed to tail the Potter brat for a couple of days. How hard could that be when no one knows who you are and the subject is contained to a short radius? He knew Bella and Snape were among the Dark Lord's more valued followers, but he did not know how this new Death Eater had gained such favor so quickly.

"That really is none of your concern, Dolohov," said Voldemort coldly.

Dolohov colored with embarrassment at having his thoughts so easily read. He mumbled his apologies, bowed to Voldemort and followed Wormtail and Greyback from the room.

When Wormtail returned, this smaller contingent formed a semi circle in front of the still seated Voldemort.

"What have you to report this time, Baldwin?" asked Voldemort.

"Master, the Potter boy has left since my last surveillance," he said simply. "I saw no signs of him or his family. I was beginning to think they'd all gone on holiday. I returned once more this afternoon and finally spotted the Dursley boy with friends in a market area. In eavesdropping, I heard him bragging that his stupid cousin was finally gone for good. He said that Potter had gone off with his weird friends. I assume that to be the boy and girl with whom I spotted him last week."

Voldemort sat motionless, his red eyes glowing. "Yes, I'm sure it was Potter's little entourage, as usual," he finally said. "Severus, would they have gone alone?"

"With Potter, one can never tell. He has always done exactly as he wishes. Even if they left alone, I cannot imagine a scenario in which they have not joined up with the Order. No, My Lord, he is guarded, wherever he is."

"And where is that?" asked Bellatrix with unchecked sarcasm. "Oh wait, you can't tell us."

Snape's eyes remained on Voldemort's. "As you are aware, Potter has only ever been with the Weasleys and the Order. I have no idea where the former reside, but I am sure Pettigrew can provide that information. After all, he did live with them for twelve years. My Lord, if Potter is there, we can expect it to be well fortified."

"As for the latter, Bella, you are correct," Snape drawled when he finally deemed to look at her. "I cannot tell you or show you. Dumbledore learned a vital lesson when dear Peter here broke the Fidelius Charm that guarded the location of the Potter home. The penalty for revealing Order information is immediate and severe. Please note, I should say for deciding to reveal it -- for an Order member would be rendered disabled before any words could be uttered."

Bellatrix looked momentarily taken aback.

Snape's lower lip twitched and he pressed forward, "Dumbledore never forgot what happened to the Longbottoms, Bella. I think you inspired him to never before charted ground. What's that old adage? Oh yes, desperate times call for desperate measures."

Pettigrew flinched; he had never liked Snape when they were students and nothing had changed. Baldwin simply looked mildly entertained. Bellatrix, now recovered, was about to say something, but then her lips clamped upon each other.

"Silence," snapped Voldemort. "I warned you once, Bella. I am growing very tired of your child like tantrums. Perhaps a night of forced silence will help you remember that. Be gone."

Bellatrix vanished with a loud pop.

"Explanations are demanded by no one but me. They are to be given to no one but me. Do I make myself clear?" snarled Voldemort as the lights flickered in the room.

"Yes, Master," returned three voices.

"Wormtail, give Baldwin all the information you have on the Weasleys and their home. Tell him everything you can about each and every one of them. Severus is correct. If Potter is there, then the Order is standing guard. No matter, I believe another round of surveillance may prove useful."

"Of course, My Lord," crooned Wormtail.

"Baldwin, be ready to move on my signal. If Potter is indeed with them and the school reopens, their home could provide the perfect opportunity to extract the boy before he reaches Hogwarts."

"Yes, My Lord," and the two men disappeared.

"Severus, go visit young Malfoy and peruse his mind. I want all the information he has on Potter and his Weasley friends. Unfortunately, I am talking about all the annoying teenage dynamics. I want to know anything and everything that could present a potential weakness. Do not allow him to resist. If he does, tell him I will come and search his mind, myself."

"As you wish, Master," said Snape and he too was gone in a blink.

Alone, Voldemort conjured a goblet of wine and drank slowly from it. He lifted it in mock toast and hissed eerily, "Enjoy yourself while you can, Potter. For the ill prepared, life can be so very short."

Nagini lifted her head and hissed her apparent agreement.

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Hours later and many miles away, a second caucus was taking place.

When Mrs. Weasley found out the plan for Harry, Ron and Hermione's excursion on Wednesday morning, she predictably had a fit.

"No, you absolutely cannot go," she nearly shrieked.

Mr. Weasley and Lupin had to remind her that Ron and Hermione were of age, and there was nothing she could do to actually stop them. She turned to look at Harry, but he spoke first.

"Mrs. Weasley, I am going," he said kindly, but resolutely. "I need to do this, so please don't make it any harder."

She looked at Harry as if she were seeing him for the first time. After a brief moment, she nodded and said "Okay, but you must promise to be very careful."

"Remus, I'm holding you responsible," she added with a slight sniff.

"I would expect nothing less, Molly," he answered lightly. "Harry, do you have your Cloak?"

"Yes."

"Very well then, let's get going," Lupin added and turned towards the family room.

Bill and Kingsley were already in the room and as the rest entered, the door in the floor rematerialized. Kingsley dropped down and within moments a spark of blue light cracked in mid air.

"All clear," said Bill. "After you reach the bottom I'll give you two minutes, all right?"

"That should be sufficient. I'll contact you when we are ready to return."

Once they reached the tunnel floor and had walked no more than ten steps, Kingsley stopped the procession and turned to Lupin.

"I'll take Ron first and pop back. You and I can leave together with Hermione and Harry."

"Perfect. Harry, please put your Cloak on now," Lupin directed, as Ron and Kingsley Disapparated together.

Kingsley returned moments after Harry was covered by his father's Invisibility Cloak and pinned Hermione to his side. Harry grasped Lupin's left arm tightly. Seconds later, the foursome joined Ron on the outskirts of what appeared to be a quaint, picturesque town.

"Harry, don't take your Cloak off just yet. Tell me, where would you like to go, first?" asked Lupin.

Harry was glad he was still covered. He'd been so determined to come and now that he was here, he was feeling out of sorts.

"Umh, can you show me where the house was?" he asked, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt.

"This way," he answered. "Harry, walk beside me. I don't want any obvious gaps in our little procession. Ron and Hermione, you two stay close behind."

"I'll give you a few minutes and then follow," said Kingsley as his eyes began carefully scanning their surroundings.

Fifteen minutes later, the group rounded a tree-lined bend that opened up to a reveal a cozy little community, scattered with houses of varying sizes and designs. The smell of summer flowers was everywhere. Kids were out on bikes and playing in the neighborhood park. Other children's voices could be heard coming from a number of yards. They walked several blocks before Lupin slowed and finally stopped. Near the middle of the block, adjacent to a rather large home, stood nothing - well, at least it looked like nothing at first glance.

They walked nearer and Harry's stomach turned. He looked closely and identified remnants of a staircase poking just above ground level. They all moved closer. This lot was set further back from the sidewalk than the houses adjacent to it. The stone fireplace was still intact and stood tall and forlorn against what had once probably been the rear wall of the house. It had been nearly sixteen years since the house was destroyed. Everything else had been cleared away. There was no broken glass or splintered wood; there were only patches of grass that had grown in and around the property.

Harry heard Hermione's intake of breath and Ron's feet shifting in the dry, brittle bits of grass. They stopped, but Harry kept walking forward until he could see the soot and burn marks on the fireplace. His mouth went dry. Those weren't soot or burn marks; they were wand marks from fired curses and spells. Harry's mind pulled his oldest memory forward. He could hear his father yelling for Lily to take Harry and run as he stood to hold Voldemort off. He was standing on the very spot where Voldemort had murdered his father.

A stranger's voice suddenly drew all their attention and brought Harry from his reverie. A woman who looked to be in her early fifties was calling out a morning greeting as she neared Lupin.

"Hello," she said when she reached him. "I'm Eleanor Gattling. My family and I live next door."

"Hello, Mrs. Gattling. I'm Gavin Morgan," Lupin lied smoothly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged furtive looks, and Harry did a double take at Lupin from beneath his Cloak.

"You and your children look like really nice people," she added as she nodded toward Ron and Hermione. "My husband and I have been watching you through our kitchen window. I do hope you are considering buying this lot. It's been ages since we had neighbors on this side and it is such a lovely neighborhood."

"Well, we are in the market for a new home," continued Lupin with his ruse. "How long have you lived here, might I ask?"

"Oh, we've been here almost thirty years. A number of families have looked at the lot before; but somehow, no one's ever gone through with the purchase. My husband thinks it's cursed, but that's absolute rubbish."

"Why would he think that?" asked Hermione suddenly.

"It's a rather sad story, dear" said Mrs. Gattling. "About fifteen or so years ago, a young couple moved into the house that once stood here with their infant son. The Potters were a charmingly handsome couple, and their son was the cutest and sweetest little thing. They were two of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet. Mr. Potter was in some kind of technology business and worked from home. The neighborhood children used to flock over here. You see, James – that was the husband's name -- was quite a hand at magic tricks and used to entertain the other children for hours in the backyard. His wife used to say he loved doing it because he was such a big kid himself."

Everyone was listening intently to her story.

"Anyway," she continued, "they'd been living here maybe a year, when something went terribly wrong. Late one night, the house suddenly blew up. That blast destroyed almost every inch of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were killed. Miraculously, the baby survived and we were told he'd been sent to live with other relatives. The neighborhood was devastated. Since then, the lot was cleared and has stood empty. Oh, I do hope you seriously consider buying it. It would be so nice to see it alive again."

She was quiet for a moment and then added, almost to herself, "I wonder what became of that beautiful little boy. He should be about the same age as your kids. Anyway, I've taken up enough of your time. I'll leave you be," she said and extended her hand to Lupin.

Lupin took it and said, "It has been a pleasure talking with you. Thank you."

Mrs. Gattling waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione and left.

Harry felt like he was going to lose his breakfast. He could see Lupin, Hermione and Ron watching for any sign of reaction from where they thought he was standing. The ground beneath his feet seemed to be cartwheeling.

"Harry," called Lupin quietly, "where are you?"

Harry could not answer. Standing where his parents' lives had ended and hearing so much about them from a total stranger was too much.

From seemingly out of nowhere, storm clouds moved in and the wind picked up noticeably. Kingsley had been discreetly hidden nearby. He hadn't heard any of Mrs. Gattling's exchange, but moved in when he saw Lupin's brow crease in concern.

A shake from Hermione's head stopped both he and Lupin from moving any closer. Hermione grabbed Ron by the hand and began a slow traverse of the ground in front of them. She hoped the neighbors were no longer watching, because they certainly looked odd. Finally she stopped and turned her head, tilting it towards a sound she heard.

It was Harry trying really hard to catch his breath and to stop his heart jumping from his chest. Hermione dragged her feet in the direction of the sound and stopped when she hit something solid, Harry's leg. Ron let go of Hermione's hand and walked to Harry's other side. As discreetly as possible, each reached across a few inches to grab a hold of Harry under his Cloak. He was bent forward with his palms on his knees. His entire body was shaking and his skin felt like he'd just surfaced from the Black Lake.

"Harry, just close your eyes and breathe in slowly and deeply," said Hermione calmly.

Several long, anxious moments later, Harry finally found his voice and his friends released their grip.

"Maybe this wasn't the best idea, after all. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this," he said.

"No one thought this would be easy for you, Harry," Lupin said as he again walked towards him. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said honestly.

"Do you want to go back to the Burrow?" asked Ron.

"No, not yet; but I don't want to stand around here anymore, either. Lupin, do you know where they are?" Harry asked warily.

"Yes, I'll take you there now. It isn't too far and the walk will probably help," Lupin answered, glancing up casually to see the storm clouds slowly receding from the late morning sky.

Lupin had been right. By the time they neared the cemetery, Harry felt eerily calm. He was strangely tired, but no longer felt ready to crawl out of his skin.

"I am certain we are alone, Remus," said Kingsley.

"Good. Harry, you may remove your Cloak now, if you wish," he said.

Harry did so and the soft summer breeze ruffled his hair as he continued following Lupin along the cemetery paths.

Somewhere behind them, Kingsley stopped and took up surveillance again. He kept Ron and Hermione with him. By the time Lupin and Harry slowed their pace, he could just make out the others' outlines some distance away.

"Go ahead, Harry," said Lupin. "It is just past that second tree. I shall wait here for you. Take as much time as you need."

Harry nodded and continued along the path. In what seemed like the longest moment of his life, he found himself standing in front of the double headstone that marked his parents' graves. Harry's breath hitched slightly and his heart thudded against his ribcage, but he did not feel sick again. He moved closer. It was a moderate sized, cobalt blue granite headstone. In intricately carved gold-filled script, it read:

_James and Lilly Potter_

_¥ 1 9 6 0 - 1 9 8 1 ¥_

_The World Owes You Much_

_May Peace Await You _

Harry didn't know how long he'd stood there or when he finally moved. He simply found himself kneeling on their graves, his right hand outstretched toward the headstone. It was smooth and cool to the touch, even on a summer's morning. Vases of fresh cut white and sterling roses stood on either side of the headstone. He wondered where they'd come from.

Mrs. Gattling's words came back to him in waves, "such a wonderful couple…nicest people…neighborhood devastated."

Harry couldn't help but conjure images of what life might have been without Voldemort, without the prophecy. He probably would have grown up here, laughing and playing much the same way as the kids they'd seen today. He physically ached for the family he never had. His heart bled for all the years his parents lost; they had been so young. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face. He didn't even try to hold them back. He allowed himself to grieve for absolutely everything and everyone, unchecked. Finally, when his tears were spent and he had nothing else to give, Harry wiped his face with the backs of his hands and stood slowly.

He read the headstone inscription once more and in barely above a whisper, vowed, "Mum and Dad, I swear I will end this. Peace won't await anyone until this is over. Please help guide me. I love you both."

He took another long look before leaving and turning to walk very slowly back along the path.

"I'm ready to leave," he said quietly when he reached Lupin.

Lupin looked at him and knew there was absolutely nothing to say. He simply nodded at Harry and took out his wand. A streak of orange light shot through the afternoon sky. Minutes passed and a blue streak answered Lupin's own. Kingsley waved from the distance and they watched as he, Ron and Hermione turned and vanished from where they'd been standing.

Harry stood side by side with Lupin and on his mark, they too Disapparated and were soon back in the tunnel beneath the Burrow. When the trio was safely in the house, Lupin and Kingsley said they needed to take off again for Order headquarters. Harry thanked them both and headed for the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley had a late lunch waiting for them. The friends were all rather quiet and once they'd finished, Ron asked, "Hey, are either of you up for a game of chess?"

Harry shook his head. "No, you two go ahead. I'm a bit tired. I think I'll go lie down. Hey…thanks again for going with me today. It really meant a lot. I'll see you at dinner."

With that, he rose and headed for the staircase and the quiet of Ron's attic room. His head was starting to throb as he collapsed on his back across the second bed. Harry stared at the ceiling for the longest time until fatigue finally won out and he fell into an uneasy sleep.


	8. Chapter 8: Life Anew

CHAPTER EIGHT: LIFE ANEW

The next few days swept by in a blur and Saturday morning dawned bright and beautifully. Everyone was awake early today. Harry walked into the yard and fields to find them full of activity, happy voices and lots of laugher. Jillian and Tonks were waving wands around like mad. Decorations, candles, flowers and linens were popping up all over the place. The Burrow was being transformed into an outdoor wonderland.

"Watcher, Harry," Tonks called when she spotted him.

Her trademark bubblegum pink hair was strawberry blond today and curled in a soft halo about her head. She looked very pretty. If it were possible, Jillian looked even more beautiful than the night Harry first met her. He hadn't seen her around the Burrow since then, but had heard Ginny inquiring after her to Kingsley.

"Good morning, Tonks. Good morning, Jillian," he said as he joined them. "Everything looks great. Can I do anything to help? "

"As a matter of fact, you can," answered Tonks. "We need to string the fairy lights in and out among the trees. Would you mind flying up and doing it for us? We can direct you from down here."

Tonks grinned when she saw the hesitation cross his face.

"It's okay," she explained. "We've cleared it with Mad-Eye and Remus. Your Firebolt is over there," she said, pointing to a table teaming with supplies.

Harry's face lit up as he quickly went to retrieve his racing broom. He mounted it and was airborne in seconds. He streamed above the tree lines, darting in and out among the boughs as if through an obstacle course, the wind ripping through his hair and coloring his cheeks. Harry hadn't felt this free in the longest time.

Tonks and Jillian were watching him from below.

"Wow," Jillian said to Tonks. "Kingsley said he was an incredible flyer."

"You haven't seen anything, yet," Tonks replied.

And as if he'd somehow heard them, Harry streaked higher and higher and then leaned flat into a near impossible dive, turning blurred spirals and loops until he was inches from the ground and pulling up effortlessly to hover in front of them.

"So," he said with his face flushed, his grin coy and his green eyes sparkling like jewels, "hand over the fairy lights and tell me what you need."

They all laughed. Two hours later, every tree within range was filled with countless fairy lights.

The rest of the day raced by in a blink, as well. By seven that evening, all the guests had passed through Moody's stringent security measures and everyone was assembled in rows of white chairs facing an elaborate bridal arch. It was covered in layers of iridescent chiffon and adorned with the most exotic mix of flowers Harry had ever seen.

Bill was already standing beneath the arch with Charlie, whom he'd selected as his best man. Enchanting harp music floated through the air as Ginny and Gabrielle gracefully made their way down the isle. They both looked lovely in pale gold dresses that seemed to float against their skin. Bill winked at his baby sister as she reached the arch. He looked fit and strong, and not even the angry scars on his face could hide his pure joy as he watched Fleur, escorted by her father, walking delicately down the aisle towards him. She was an absolute vision in white lace.

Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were already crying. Mr. Weasley and the other siblings were ready to burst with pride. Bill had invited Percy, but he'd declined and made up some nonsense about having to work a lot of overtime at the Ministry. In the end it did not matter, for even his absence couldn't detract from their happiness. With the sun setting low behind the trees, Bill and Fleur pledged their lives to each other in front of their families, friends and dozens of Order members. When they turned and faced their guests, every single fairy light suddenly glistened and twinkled. Fleur shrieked with surprised delight. Harry looked to see Jillian and Tonks wink and wave at him. He smiled and winked back.

Harry was drinking a glass of mead when McGonagall, who'd been happily talking all evening with almost every guest present, made her way to him and said, "Good evening, Potter. Please come along with me," and led the way into the house.

With a flick of her wand, McGonagall sealed and sound proofed the kitchen.

"Harry, it's good to see you," she said kindly. "How have you been?"

"I'm okay, Professor," he said. "How are things?"

"Well, it hasn't been officially announced, but the governors have decided to reopen Hogwarts in the fall. Letters will be going out to students shortly, but I have brought yours, the Weasleys' and Ms. Granger's with me."

She pulled four envelopes from her dress robes and placed them in the center of the table.

Harry was silent for a moment. He'd decided last June that he wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts. He'd told no one but Ron and Hermione, and now he was at a temporary loss about how to tell Professor McGonagall. She looked as if she were reading his mind.

"Potter, I know you well enough to believe your first instinct tells you not to return to school."

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at McGonagall, but he remained silent.

"It is your nature to put everyone else's needs before your own. It's a noble quality, even if it is a bit annoying at times," she added in cheek. "Seriously, given last year's events, I can understand why you'd be concerned. I can assure you though, Potter, no one will be entering Hogwarts through any magic cabinets or any other means. Security is tighter than ever. Order members and Ministry Aurors will be on premise at all times."

"Well," said Harry sincerely, "that's great news. I'd hate for the school to have been shut down. But Professor, there are other reasons why I can't return this term."

"Yes, I'm sure you believe that to be the case, and I know you won't divulge those reasons, so maybe this will help change your mind," she replied, pulling one other envelope from her robes and handing it to directly to Harry. "I'll be outside awaiting your decision. Please see me before you retire."

She rose from the table, patted Harry lightly on the shoulder and exited the kitchen door.

Harry turned the envelope over and stared at it. He recognized the narrow, slanted writing immediately; it was Dumbledore's. He hesitated a few moments, finally sliding a finger under the wax seal and removing the folded parchment within. Dumbledore's voice filled his head as he read:

_Dearest Harry,_

_If you are reading this letter then I know not everything worked out as I had hoped, and that I have left you sooner than intended. For that, I am truly, truly sorry. _

_Our time spent together last year was invaluable. Do not forget or dismiss anything we did or discussed. All of it is important. You know what you must do first. The tasks I outlined for you must be completed. Harry, you can do this – yes, even without me. I know you've shared the full truth with no one but Ron and Hermione. I've no doubt they will prove useful in these pursuits. Please allow them to help you. _

_Of course, there are many other things I had intended to teach you. Do not worry, though. I have entrusted those duties to some of the brightest and most talented witches and wizards of our time. You will find most of them at your disposal at Hogwarts. You cannot possibly hope to finish this, yet. Your time will come soon, Harry, and I want you as prepared as possible. That preparation begins at Hogwarts. _

_If I know Minerva at all, then the school will be under the highest security measures. Should you need to exit the premises in certain pursuits, I ask that you first contact Alastor or Kingsley. You will be taught the methods by which the Order communicate with each other. Please do not leave the grounds through your usual means unless absolutely unavoidable. The Marauders were amazingly crafty, weren't they?_

_Now, if Minerva has delivered this in the timeframe I outlined, then your seventeenth birthday is only days away. You and I both know what that means. Voldemort also knows what that means. Therefore, you will need to return to Hogwarts sooner than the others. The Order will arrange your transport. While most students would dread the mere idea of returning to school early, I somehow do not think you will mind very much. Hermione and Ron will be allowed to return early, as well. I dare say, you might find four extra weeks with near limitless access to the school most helpful._

_Harry, please remember that you are not alone. You carry the love of so many people within you. Do not be afraid of it. Do not be ashamed of it. It is not your weakness, but the very foundation of your strength. When you are afraid, call on it. When you are angry, call on it. When you are lonely, call on it. It has saved you before and I believe, will do so again. You are far stronger than you can possibly imagine. Trust me on this, please. _

_Know this, as well. There are not words adequate enough to express how very proud I am of you and the young man you have become. It has been an absolute pleasure and my ultimate honor to know you, Harry James Potter._

_Feel free to visit my portrait whenever you have the need. _

_With you always,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry read through the letter again and again, until he had it memorized. Finally, he went to stand in the doorway leading to the yard. He scanned the grounds until he found Ron and Hermione at a nearby table with Fred and George. Fireworks were going off in an amazing display of color and design. The twins had been expanding their store inventory. Ron seemed to sense him and turned. Harry waved them over to him.

"We need to talk. Let's go to your room," he said quickly.

Ron and Hermione followed Harry to the top of the winding, crooked staircase. Once the door was closed, Harry filled them in on his conversation with Professor McGonagall. He placed their Hogwarts letters on the desk and then handed Dumbledore's letter to Hermione. She and Ron sat side by side on his bed and read the letter together in silence. When they'd finished, they looked at each other, and then to Harry.

"Harry," said Ron, "do you know what all of this is about?"

"Not exactly," he answered as he sat on the camp bed and faced his friends. He relayed what he'd learned last week from Lupin to them. They looked as stunned as he had.

"I guess the only way I will know all of it is if I agree to return to Hogwarts," he said.

"And blimey, when did Dumbledore find out about the One-Eyed Witch?" asked Ron.

"I don't know. Dumbledore once told me he'd watched me more closely than I could have imagined. I suspect he knew most things."

"Harry," began Hermione, "you know we will do whatever you decide, but it really does sound like Hogwarts is the best place to start. I mean it doesn't sound like Dumbledore was just trying to keep you hidden."

"I know. I was thinking the same thing. I just wanted to run it by you two."

"Well, that's settled then," said Ron. We're going back to Hogwarts."

Harry stood and walked to Ron's small, round window and looked out on the dwindling crowd in the yard. McGonagall was just below, talking to Lupin. Harry called to her and she looked up. He nodded once. She smiled warmly and nodded back.


	9. Chapter 9: The Other Celebration

CHAPTER NINE: THE OTHER CELEBRATION

Bill and Fleur left before dawn on Sunday morning for their honeymoon in Italy. The Burrow seemed oddly quiet without all the hustle and bustle that had gone into planning and executing their wedding. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. By evening, the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Lupin were gathering in the family room to bid farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Delacour and Gabrielle.

"Thank you zo much fer everyzing," said Mrs. Delacour to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "We can ze why Fleur iz zo fond of all of you."

"It has been our pleasure," said Mrs. Weasley. "Fleur is an absolute dear and we are delighted to have you all join our family."

Fred and George exchanged wicked grins and Ron stifled a laugh with a phony cough. It hadn't been that long ago when Mrs. Weasley would have given anything to have Bill involved with almost anyone other than Fleur. It's amazing how quickly things changed. Mr. Weasley's face had colored slightly as he shot warning looks at his children.

Gabrielle stepped forward, "I 'ad zuch a wunderful time, ezpezially wiz Ginny. We were wundering if Ginny might like to spend zum time wiz uz en France befur lezzons start egin," she broached excitedly.

Ginny looked taken aback for a minute, but then smiled warmly.

"I think I'd like that a lot," she said looking from her parents to the Delacours.

Harry noticed that Ginny had been spending a lot of time with Gabrielle. It made sense, as they were both bridesmaids in the wedding. Gabrielle was a couple of years younger than Ginny, but the two seemed to have gotten along really well.

Lupin spoke up.

"Well, that does sound like an amazing way to spend the last of the holidays," he said pleasantly, but with his eyes very serious as he looked at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley understood immediately, and so did Harry. Ron and Hermione would be returning to Hogwarts early with Harry, but Ginny would not be returning until the first of September. She would be safer away from home, away from Britain for the time being.

"Why thank you so much for offering," replied Mr. Weasley amicably. "I think Lupin is right, it does sound wonderful. Of course you may go, Ginny."

Mrs. Weasley looked momentarily out of sorts until she read the look on her husband's face. It was rare to see Mr. Weasley so serious, and even though he was still smiling, anyone who knew him could read the subtext. This was not up for debate.

"Yes, thank you," said Mrs. Weasley slowly. "We can have her ready by tomorrow evening. How's ten o'clock?"

"Cela est magnifique," said Mrs. Delacour. "Dey will 'ave zuch fun. We will contact you in ze morning aboot ze Floo."

"Perfect," said Mr. and Mrs. Weasley together.

They all waved goodbye as one by one, the Delacours stepped into the fireplace and vanished.

"Oh Ginny," cried Hermione. "I'm so jealous. You are going to have a wonderful time."

"I hope so. Would you mind coming up and helping me sort and pack."

"Not at all," and the two disappeared up the winding staircase.

"Women," said Fred and George in unison.

Everyone grinned, except for Mrs. Weasley, who shot the twins a look that could curdle milk.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Monday was once again a whir of activity. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were all busy trying to wash clothes, retrieve misplaced items and begin packing. Ginny was leaving that evening; Harry, Ron and Hermione were departing on Wednesday. Charlie was already gone. He'd left hours ago, on what Harry, Ron and Hermione guessed was an Order assignment. Lupin, Moody, Kingsley, Tonks and Mr. Weasley had been in the family room, talking in hushed voices for hours. Fred and George arrived about an hour ago and joined them. It was early evening before things seemed to be nearly in order.

Mrs. Weasley stepped from the kitchen and announced she had dinner ready in the yard.

"Harry, would you mind helping me with the last of the platters?" she asked as everyone else made their way outdoors.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Weasley," he said and went into the kitchen and grabbed a huge platter piled high with all sorts of tarts and sweets.

Mrs. Weasley was holding a tureen full of something that smelled wonderful. With a flick of her wand, the remaining trays, platters and pitchers began moving slowly through the air.

"Go ahead, dear," she said, "I'm right behind you."

Harry turned slightly and used his hip to bump open the door leading to the yard. He'd taken only a few steps when he was startled into a dead stop.

"SURPISE!!" greeted his ears.

Everyone was assembled around a large, decorated table. A huge banner that flashed and sang "Happy Birthday" was floating around the yard. There were balloons and whirring and popping decorations that most definitely came from Fred and George. Harry was staring wide-eyed and completely speechless.

Mrs. Weasley was standing just behind him. She stood on tiptoe and whispered, "Now, you couldn't possibly think we'd let you leave here without celebrating your birthday, especially this one."

Ron and the twins were out of their seats and walking towards them.

"Come on, server boy," teased the twins. "We're starving and you've got the rest of the food," they said as they took the remaining items from both Harry and Mrs. Weasley.

Ron looked at Harry and shrugged. "Come on," he said. "You know we couldn't deprive Mum of another chance to smother you with affection."

Harry surveyed the assembled group, punched Ron lightly on the shoulder and said cheerfully, "No, I suppose not. It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it."

Everything was delicious. Mrs. Weasley had prepared all of Harry's favorites. He'd tried to have a little of everything, but now felt ready to explode. He sat back and couldn't help but smiling. Moody was actually playing Exploding Snap with Fred and George. Ginny, Hermione and Tonks appeared to be in deep and excited girl talk. Lupin and Kingsley were engaged in a serious round of wizard chess. "That could go on forever," thought Harry.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were off near the fields, walking hand in hand and gazing at the slowly setting sun. Harry had been talking to Ron when he said he needed to grab something from the house. It was Ginny's voice that caught everyone's attention just as Ron was returning.

"It's time for presents!" she called.

"Presents?" said Harry.

"Yeah," joked Ron as he plopped down next to Harry again. "You know, those things people give you because they like you. They're usually wrapped in bright, shiny paper."

Ron still marveled at how Harry always seemed surprised when he got gifts.

"Those damnable idiots," he mumbled to himself as visions of the Dursleys flashed in his head.

Once everyone was gathered around again, Mr. Weasley got to his feet.

"Seventeen is always a special birthday for our kind. It marks the path from youth to adulthood. Harry, we know your birthday is still several days away, but we wanted to be able to share this time with you. I'm sure everything going in and out of Hogwarts will be searched, and that's no way to receive proper presents, so please indulge us. Here, this one is from Molly and me," he finished and handed Harry a box wrapped in gold foil.

Harry opened it and smiled broadly. It was one of the most handsome quill and ink sets he'd ever laid eyes on. The quill feather actually glistened in the early dusk. It was a colorful mix of burgundy, green and teal, with a bronzed tip that was intricately carved in symbols that caused Hermione to inhale sharply. The ink well was bronze and carved in similar fashion to the quill.

"Do you like it?" asked Mrs. Weasley with her warm eyes twinkling.

"I love it," said Harry simply as he looked up at them both. "Thank you."

"Our pleasure," replied Mr. Weasley. "Well, Bill is obviously unavailable, but I suspect our up and coming Runes expert over there can probably help you out with the symbols," he added with a wink toward Hermione.

"Enough with the puzzles, already," said Fred.

"Yeah, can't a bloke even enjoy his own party without having to think for once? Geez!!" said George in exaggerated exasperation that had everyone laughing.

"Here you go, Harry," came Tonk's voice as she pulled her wand and sent a rather large package across the table until it landed in front of Harry. "That one is actually from Kingsley, Moody and me."

Harry's brow arched at each of them as he stood and began tearing through wrapping paper. A beautifully crafted and polished redwood chest greeted him. It took about five seconds before Harry's eyes lighted on the logo carved in the center. He gasped and looked at the three Aurors incredulously.

"It can't be," he said in awe.

"Go ahead, open it," said Tonks, ready to leap from her chair.

"What is it?" asked Hermione as she noticed Ron, Ginny, Fred and George were all wearing expressions similar to Harry's.

Harry's hands found the metal latches and quickly popped the locks and opened the chest. Inside was an International Association issued Quidditch set. All the Weasley kids were clambering for a better look. The two Beaters' bats, polished to the hilt and made of the same redwood as the chest, shone smoothly in the slowly darkening sky. The Quaffle was of the finest dragon leather available. The Bludgers vibrated rhythmically against the wrought iron chains that held them securely in place. Harry's gaze roamed up to the inner lid of the chest. In its center was carved a groove, covered by a small, metal crest. Harry leaned forward to open it and got a closer look at the crest. It was brushed gold, with his initials carved in relief. He opened it and out buzzed and hovered a truly Golden Snitch. Its silver wings were beating frantically, but it didn't go far. Even in the growing darkness, Harry's keen Seeker eyes never lost sight of it. He toyed with it for a minute before returning it to the grooved compartment.

"How in the world did you get your hands on that?" asked Fred as he rounded on the Aurors.

"They don't sell those to just anyone," said George, still looking flabbergasted.

"When you live as long as I have, you tend to meet some very interesting and useful people," answered Moody, "and that's all I'm saying. Now move out of the way. You're blocking our view of Potter."

Harry was still staring at the chest, his hands roaming lightly over the now closed lid.

"I guess you like it, then?" came Moody's gruff voice.

"WOW! Are you kidding?" Harry said, turning and beaming at the three of them. "I can't even tell you how much. Thank you."

"Well, every man needs a hobby," said Kingsley smoothly. "You know, to keep down the stress."

Everyone laughed.

"Keep it moving, people. A girl's got a Floo to catch later tonight," said Ginny deviously

"Too right," laughed Lupin. "Here you are, Harry. Happy Birthday."

Lupin had given Harry a black, leather bound journal. A dark green velvet ribbon was sewn in as its page marker.

"I figure it might help you sort your thoughts. Incidentally, you may find it useful to know it was originally owned and modified by the Marauders."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked up at Lupin. It would definitely be most useful.

"It's perfect, Lupin. Thank you."

Fred and George were quick on the uptake. They of course, had been the ones to find and discover what the Marauder's Map was; but they had never known the Marauders' true identities. Harry, Ron and Hermione had discovered the truth more than three years ago. But looking at the twins' faces, Harry realized he'd never told them the whole story; and apparently, neither had Ron. It didn't matter now. You could see the puzzle pieces falling into place as they turned to look at Lupin like they couldn't wait to corner him.

Lupin simply chuckled and stared back at them as innocently as possible.

"Fred and George, would you like to go next?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"What? Oh yeah, sure. Happy Birthday, Harry," they chimed together in a way only twins could.

Inside their box was an assortment of some of the brashest, funniest and most outrageous gags, games and tricks Harry had ever laid his eyes on. They really had been busy.

"Now that we're gone, someone's got to carry on with keeping Filch on his toes," said Fred in answer to the look of displeasure on Mrs. Weasley's face.

"Yeah, laughter is supposed to be the best medicine, or some such thing, right?" added George.

Harry laughed out loud and answered, "Definitely. These are really great. Thanks."

He was just about to move the box when he noticed a note. He quickly opened it and scanned it as he pretended to be rearranging the items in the box.

H_arry,_

_We've got some more serious items for you, which we will be delivering to you personally. _

_We'll be in touch soon._

_Fred & George_

Harry was just closing the lid when another gift was placed in front of him. This one was from Hermione. He opened it and grinned. Inside was a collection of books. These weren't spell books or textbooks. They were some of Harry's favorites Muggle fiction stories, and a few he had never read. Hermione knew reading had been his only escape from the torture of living with the Dursleys before he came to Hogwarts. The books were all leather bound collectors' editions.

"While I don't know much about Quidditch, I do know books. At some point when you get to have a normal life, I figure you might like to indulge in some quiet, sensible, leisurely activity," she said with sincerity.

Harry was touched.

"Thanks. You won't make me write book reports, though, will you?" he asked and was rewarded when she smiled and giggled.

"Well, maybe just one," she cheeked.

Kingsley waved his wand and softly lit lanterns hovered around the table and backyard.

"It's my turn," said Ginny.

She handed Harry a small box. It was wrapped in silver paper and tied with an emerald green bow. Inside he found a delicate, sterling chain with a charm dangling from it. What was it? Harry held it in his palm and looked closely. It was a stag. She knew him so well. Harry looked across at her and his heart leapt.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," she said softly.

Fearing Hermione was gong to start crying at any minute, Ron broke in and said, "We haven't gotten to the best one yet, mine."

Ron's package was a bit heavy, too. Harry placed it in his lap and unwrapped it. It was an antique looking chess set and the board and pieces were exquisite. Harry looked up at his best friend in amazement.

"Mum helped me find it at an antique store, and the slave drivers over there," he said pointing at Fred and George, "worked me to the bone for a week, but they paid pretty well. I know it's not new or anything…"

Harry stopped him mid sentence. "Don't be daft. It's absolutely the best chessboard I could ever have." He meant it. "Really. Thanks, mate."

"I think that's everything," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Almost, Molly," said Lupin. "There are a couple more gifts."

Harry looked inquisitively at Lupin. He'd gotten a gift from everyone present. What could be left?

Lupin stood to move closer to Harry, and Ron slid over to provide his seat.

"Thank you, Ron," he said kindly before turning directly to Harry.

Lupin seemed at a lost on how to begin.

"Harry, I debated on whether I should give these last gifts to you in private. I actually didn't make my decision until this very evening."

"Okay," was all Harry could think to answer.

Lupin looked intently at Harry before speaking again.

"Obviously, I was around when you were an infant, but you were far too young to have ever remembered those days. I was delighted to come back into your life four years ago. It was the main reason I accepted the teaching post at Hogwarts when Dumbledore offered it. I took one look at you on that train and smiled inwardly for the first time in a long while."

No one, including Harry, seemed to know where this little conversation was headed.

"As you are well aware by now," continued Lupin, "you do look remarkably like James; and you certainly have Lily's eyes. Yet, you remind me of each of them in so many other ways - your laugh, a certain glint in your eyes, your temper when it flares, and all sorts of things. It is your heart – your soul, however, that makes you uniquely you. You wear it on your sleeve and in your eyes, and it is an extraordinary thing to behold. Sirius and I spent much of our newfound time together marveling at the wonderful young man you'd become. He was so incredibly proud of you and he loved you fiercely."

Harry's throat was beginning to burn, but he couldn't pull his eyes from Lupin's.

"The people who loved you first are not physically with us anymore. They did however, think of this day's celebration. I am humbled to be able to give these to you for them. I hope you don't mind, but it felt right to do so in the company of those who care about you now."

Lupin summoned two small boxes. He extended the first to Harry, who swallowed audibly and took it hesitantly. It was a dark blue velvet box. He opened it and a note was on top. Harry's head spun. It was from Sirius.

"He'd already decided what he was giving you to mark your seventeenth birthday. He was so excited. I did not realize he'd also written the note until recently, when I went searching for the gift box," continued Lupin.

Harry opened the note and read silently, unshed tears slightly blurring his vision.

_Harry,_

_I wanted to mark this day with something special. I thought long and hard and I don't know why it took so long for me to realize that I already had the perfect gift for you. It was one of my favorite things and something tells me you will love it, as well. _

_I can't wait to see you with it._

_Enjoy,_

_Sirius_

Nestled in the box was a small, shiny key.

"What is it?" Harry asked in a slightly thick voice.

"Well, it actually is the key to the blasted thing," said Lupin jovially, "although you don't really need it, as it's been bewitched, anyway."

Seeing Harry's confusion, he explained, "Harry, it's the key to Sirius's flying motorcycle."

"Wicked," whispered the twins from across the table.

Harry was dumbfounded. He recalled hearing about the motorcycle once before. It was in the Three Broomsticks when he'd overheard Hagrid talking about the night his parents had died and how Sirius had given him his motorcycle to use to get Harry to safety. He'd never thought about it again.

"Sirius asked Hagrid to bring it to headquarters, and he spent countless hours reconditioning it by hand. It really is a beautiful piece of machinery."

Harry smiled ever so slightly as he pictured Sirius humming around the house and working on the bike. Maybe his last days at Grimmauld Place weren't all as horrible as Harry had imagined them to be.

Lupin pulled him from his thoughts with a tap on his arm. He was holding the second box.

"This one," he began, "is a very old Potter family heirloom. It has been in your family for generations and has always been passed to the eldest son. James inherited it from his father on his seventeenth birthday. He intended to give it to you on yours. After the attack in Godric's Hollow, I spent hours combing through the debris, trying to determine what remained. There wasn't much, but I was thrilled to find this and have been holding it for you ever since."

Harry took the package. He opened it and out spilled a beautiful gold pocket watch. It was weighted, and the gold chain was as thin and strong as unicorn hair. There was an ornate letter P etched on the front, outer side. He opened it. The lead crystal face shone brilliantly, as the hands moved flawlessly around the numbers and symbols incased within. Harry looked to the right side of the watch, but couldn't find the winding stem. Lupin knew what he was looking for.

"It never needs winding, Harry. It will keep perfect time forever, no matter where you are," he explained.

Harry looked to the left side of the watch, and saw that it was actually an oval picture frame. Inside, was a black and white picture of his parents. He'd never seen this picture before. James was behind Lily, and she appeared to be resting against his chest, the back of her head barely reaching his chin. They looked like they were watching the horizon. Their eyes expressed nothing but contentment.

"That photo was taken the night Lily told James she was pregnant," Lupin said gently, with his own eyes glistening. "Happy Birthday, Harry."

Lupin rose from his seat and walked towards the house. Tonks, a bit red eyed, got up and followed after him.

Harry slowly looked around. Hermione, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley were all sitting quietly, silent tear streams slowly falling from their faces. Mr. Weasley, Moody and Kingsley were sitting stoically, while Ron and the twins were shifting uncomfortably next to him.

Mr. Weasley finally spoke, "Ginny, it's time to get you ready to go. Why don't you ladies head into the house. We can clean up out here in no time."

He meant it. In a matter of minutes, the yard was spotless and the only thing that remained was the table at which Harry sat with his family's pocket watch still in his lap.

Harry finally got to his feet, the watch clutched in his hand. He turned to Mr. Weasley and Kingsley, who were the last ones outside with him.

"I'm going to go for a short walk," he said. "Don't worry, I'll come inside in time to see Ginny off."

Nearly an hour had passed when Harry entered through the kitchen doorway. Everyone was gathering in the family room and quieted slightly when Harry entered. Lupin was watching him concernedly.

Harry approached him, gave him an honest smile and said sincerely to everyone, "Thanks everyone. I can't tell you how much tonight meant to me. I won't ever forget it."

Lupin pulled Harry to his side and hugged him about the shoulder.

Mrs. Weasley was beaming proudly when a spark from the fireplace caught everyone's attention. It was the Delacours. Apparently, everyone else had already said goodbye to Ginny. She ran across the room and hugged Harry, as well.

"I'll be thinking of you," she whispered and let him go as quickly as she'd embraced him.

"I'll see you soon," he said. "Please try to have some fun, okay?"

Ginny nodded, turned and walked into the fireplace. She was gone within seconds and Harry already missed her.


	10. Chapter 10: Away in the Night

CHAPTER TEN: AWAY IN THE NIGHT

Harry felt a hand gently nudging his shoulder. It only took him a moment to fully awaken and find Lupin sitting on the edge of his camp bed in Ron's room.

"Harry," whispered Lupin, "we need to get ready to leave."

He quickly retrieved his glasses from the side table and sat upright.

"What?" he said as he stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock on Ron's desk; it wasn't quite four AM.

"Sorry," said Lupin softly. "I know you haven't been asleep long. As you know, the plan was to transport you on Wednesday, but something has come up and we need to move up our agenda."

He had Harry's complete attention now.

"What's happened?" asked Harry.

"Ottery St. Catchpole is a relatively small village," he explained, "and strangers tend to stick out. Amos Diggory contacted Arthur about an hour after you all went to bed. That isn't really unusual. He has become a bit of an insomniac since losing Cedric. He often calls on Arthur to talk when he cannot sleep."

Harry could certainly sympathize.

"He'd been in the village pub earlier in the evening and over the course of a few hours, spotted some new faces. There aren't many wizards in this area and he pegged one of the strangers as a Ministry Auror. He was contacting Arthur to discuss the Ministry's increased security presence. Amos went on to describe the second man, the one he did not recognize. At first glance he believed him to be a Muggle; but at some point, got the impression the stranger may have been watching him. He wanted to know if Arthur might know anything about him. His description of this stranger was alarming."

Harry was still waiting for the bombshell he knew was coming.

"Amos said the stranger had the oddest colored eyes; he said they looked nearly gold. Harry, that is the same description of the man spotted in Surrey the night you, Hermione and Ron were returning from the fair grounds. We weren't certain then, but we are now. Whoever he is, he was following you that night, and he has not wandered near here by coincidence," concluded Lupin.

"You think he's a Death Eater," stated Harry.

"Yes," answered Lupin. "Your birthday is only two days away. It makes sense that Voldemort would want to ascertain your location. He would no doubt relish the opportunity to make a grab at you as soon as possible after you become of age. Only a few people outside of the Order know exactly where you are. I am willing to bet Death Eaters are scouting out various spots all over England, trying to get a handle on where Order headquarters might be located, as well. They're narrowing down the possibilities, but it appears no security has actually been compromised."

Harry didn't realize it, but he'd been holding his breath. He let it out on a long sigh and ran his hands through his rumbled hair.

"Moody and I agree that we still have the advantage," said Lupin. "The school governors will not announce their decision until the end of the week. As long as we get you to Hogwarts before that information is made public or leaked, we are in good shape. We considered letting you sleep a few more hours, but felt the early hours would provide better subterfuge. We need to take advantage of all this while we can."

"No, it's fine. I'll wake Ron and we'll be down quickly," replied Harry.

"No, he can sleep a little longer. We are moving you to Hogwarts, first. Ron and Hermione will join you later today."

"Okay. I'll be downstairs shortly."

Lupin nodded and rose from the side of the bed and headed for the doorway.

"And in case you had not noticed, Harry, we have already moved most of your belongings downstairs."

Harry dressed in the same clothes he'd discarded only a few hours earlier, scribbled a quick note to Ron and crept silently from the room, closing the door behind him and making his way downstairs to the Weasleys' main floor. Lupin, Moody, Kingsley, Dawlish and two others whom Harry did not recognize were deep in conversation near the fireplace. Tonks and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting at the table.

Moody saw Harry, and quickly revealed and unsealed the tunnel entry.

"Right then, let's get things moving," he barked. "DeSousa and Kipling, you will accompany Tonks to Hogsmeade," said Moody to the two wizards Harry didn't recognize, "We'll wait for your signal before proceeding any further."

DeSousa and Kipling turned towards Harry and inclined their heads in greeting before dropping through the trap door into the tunnel. They signaled that everything was clear and Tonks rose from the table to join them.

"I'll see you soon, Harry," she said and touched Lupin's hand lightly as she passed him before following the others into the tunnel.

Everyone strained to hear the nearly silent pops that signaled their exit. Moody sealed the door and watched it vanish from a flick of his wand. He, Lupin, Kingsley and Dawlish walked out into the yard and began patrolling the property. Harry moved to sit with the Weasleys at the place Tonks had just vacated. Mrs. Weasley looked tired and worried.

"Harry, dear" she began, "Moody has already sent your things to Hogsmeade. Hagrid is there now. Once he's met with the others and worked security detail, he will retrieve your belongings and transport them to the castle."

"Okay," said Harry.

"Now," said Mr. Weasley, "we have some things to discuss with you. Molly and I received a letter from Dumbledore. In it, he asked that we instruct you in the ways Order members communicate. By now, I'm guessing you've probably figured out some of it."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harry slowly, "I've seen some of you using different colored wand sparks, and I saw Dumbledore and Tonks each conjuring a Patronus."

"Very good," said Mr. Weasley nodding. "Any first year student can produce wand sparks, and we know you taught a number of students to perform the Patronus Charm. Dumbledore took each of these spells and created far more complex versions. However, the spells you've witnessed aren't nearly as simple as they appear. With the exception of you, these particular spells will only work for sworn members of the Order."

Harry frowned.

"But Mr. Weasley, if I'm not…" Harry started and was cut off before he uttered another word.

"Don't worry, Harry," explained Mr. Weasley. "Bill and Remus have devised other means for a select number of non Order members to reach us. Ron, Hermione and Ginny will not be left without recourse."

"But they can't use these particular spells?" asked Harry.

"No," answered Mr. Weasley.

Harry's innate curiosity was getting the better of him and it must have been written all over his face, for Mrs. Weasley spoke up.

"Tell him, Arthur," she said simply.

"As you know, Harry," started Mr. Weasley again, "the Order was reactivated the night you saw You-Know-Who returned to his body, the night the Ministry chose to bury its head in the sand. Following the events of that night, Dumbledore realized you were in far greater danger than ever before. When he and Moody re-pledged former members and began inducting new members, they implemented a new oath."

Mr. Weasley held Harry's gaze before continuing.

"Aside from the obvious promise to fight against You-Know-Who, his Death Eaters and the Dark Arts in general, current Order members have sworn to provide protection and aid to you. New members take the same oath, now through Alastor and Remus."

"That can't be," gasped Harry.

"Yes, it can, and it is," said Mr. Weasley. "Obviously, we have to be very careful about admitting new members. Current members may submit names for consideration, but membership can only be offered and approved by senior Order members. Dumbledore was very specific about this. When the Ministry turned its back on You-Know-Who's return and targeted you, Dumbledore was more furious than I'd ever seen him. He and the others began building our ranks two years ago. We have an increasing circle of support, from farther away than you can imagine, but true Order membership demands total commitment."

Harry was slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

"The Order only considers overage wizards for membership; but by making you a focal point of the Order mission, Dumbledore also conveniently side stepped the age requirement," added Mr. Weasley. "That is why you were able to see the various wand spark colors. If you ask Ron and Hermione to describe what they saw, they will simply tell you they saw white sparks. Harry, Dumbledore knew another war was coming and he hoped this fight would wait as long as possible. But realistically, he also knew you might need other resources sooner, rather than later."

Harry was stunned. His mind flashed back to the afternoon with Kingsley in the Dursley's kitchen. He recalled Kingsley saying the Order was committed to helping him finish this fight. He wasn't kidding.

"Harry, I know what I just told you is shocking; but obviously, Dumbledore believed it to be necessary."

Harry didn't know what to say. He was trying to stop his thoughts from snowballing as Mr. Weasley continued speaking.

"Anyway, if another wizard saw an Order produced wand spark, he would see only white. The true colors can only be seen by Order members. Each color has a different meaning, depending on the circumstances. The spell works by sort of reading the thoughts of the Order member producing the spark. For instance, let's assume the task was to deliver a letter in secret. If the Order member is successful, he or she only need think 'successful' and invoke the spell. The spell would automatically produce the appropriate spark color. Once you memorize the spell, you will inherently know the color codes.

"That's impressive," Harry finally managed to say.

"Yes, and so is the Patronus spell," agreed Mr. Weasley. "First, you have to be able to conjure a corporal Patronus. Not all wizards can do so, but we know it is easy work for you. Your Patronus is really strong, so you should have no trouble. The Patronus is an innately dark magic fighter, and can never be intercepted by Dark Wizards. The Patronus produced by an Order member is able to communicate. That is why your Patronus seemed to be listening to you the night the dementors cornered you and your cousin in Little Whinging; it was. It would have fought off the dementors anyway because that is what a Patronus does, but that particular one would have also worked as a messenger, had you known the spell to invoke. You will learn both now," finished Mr. Weasley as he handed Harry a slip of paper.

Harry opened it and saw two short spells written in a hard, heavy penmanship. He suspected it was Moody's writing.

_Vivido_

_Patronum Animatim_

Harry was startled at how short and simple the spells were. Mrs. Weasley seemed to read his thoughts.

"Dumbledore put a lot of work into these," she said. "They may seem simple on the surface, but a lot of complicated spell and incantation work went into creating them. They are uniquely his and incredibly effective."

"I have no doubt about that," said Harry. When he had memorized the spells, he laid the slip of paper on the table and from a flick of Mr. Weasley's wand, watched it burn away to nothing.

"Harry," said Mrs. Weasley softly. "Please be careful and come home to us."

"I always do," he said with more confidence than he felt, but he couldn't bear to burden either of them with all the things running through his head.

As if in answer to a prayer, a streak of pink light lit the sky in the backyard and everyone rose from the table. The Order members filed in from outside. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry goodbye and he followed the Order members once more to the tunnel beneath the floor. Within five minutes, Harry was standing behind the dingy bar of the Hog's Head flanked by Moody, Lupin, Kingsley and Dawlish. The barkeep was leaning near the fireplace mantel. Hagrid was by the front door, waving frantically at Harry.

"Hi, Harry," said Hagrid. "I'd come closer, but I'm not supposed ter leave my position here," said Hagrid importantly.

"Hi, Hagrid. That's okay; we can talk later today."

Hagrid grinned and winked his reply.

"What happened to Tonks, DeSousa and Kipling?" asked Harry.

"They are with a number of others, spread out inconspicuously in the village," said Lupin. "If any Death Eaters happen to be nearby, Tonks and the others will lure them out and towards the other opposite direction. That should leave us clear on this end."

Harry nodded and turned to find the barkeep staring at him openly. He had only ever seen him from afar. There was something so familiar about him. As Harry struggled to figure it out, a wispy, silver cat appeared out of thin air and seemed to be speaking directly to the barkeep.

"So, he was definitely an Order member," thought Harry.

"It's all clear," said the barkeep in a gravelly voice. "You can get moving."

"Very well," replied Lupin. "Thank you for your help, Aberforth. We'll be back in touch, soon."

Harry was startled as recognition dawned. He was looking at Aberforth Dumbledore, the late headmaster's brother. He wanted to say something, but before he could form any thoughts, Moody had grabbed him tightly by the arm and turned on the spot.

Harry found himself standing next to Moody in the entrance hall of Hogwarts. McGonagall was there to greet them.

"Good morning, Harry. Good morning, Alastor," said McGonagall.

"Hello, Professor," said Harry.

Moody hadn't replied. He was busy uttering a slew of unintelligible incantations. Harry knew he was restoring whatever barriers had been temporarily lowered to allow them to Apparate directly into the entrance hall.

"Morning, Minerva," Moody finally managed once he's finished. "Sorry to get you up so early."

"It's quite all right," she replied. "Harry, you must be tired. Why don't you go on up to the dormitory. Your things have already arrived and breakfast is waiting for you. You will find the last password unchanged."

"Thank you, Professor," he answered.

"If you need anything, Alastor and I will be in my office. I haven't changed that password yet, either. I've been told the castle and grounds are to be at your disposal. That is fine for the time being, but once term begins, we will have to make other arrangements."

"Okay, I understand," said Harry as he stifled a second yawn and walked towards the marble staircase.

The Fat Lady was apparently unsurprised to see him. Once he'd spoken the password, she opened the door without comment or question. The Gryffindor common room was eerily quiet. The house elves had already completed their post term cleaning and everything was spotless and polished to a high gloss. Soft rays from the barely visible rising sun were casting colored beams through the stained glass windows. A loaded breakfast tray was sitting on a desk under one of the windows. Harry took the tray and sat on the big comfy sofa across from the unlit fireplace. When he's finished eating, he'd intended to go upstairs and unpack. Instead, he was surprised to find he didn't feel like moving. Harry was more tired than he'd realized. He sat the tray on the floor, placed his glasses on a side table and stretched out. He was fast asleep in minutes.

Something was poking Harry in his side. "Maybe the sofa had a loose spring," he thought to himself as he floated toward wakefulness and remembered where he was. He opened his eyes to find a huge, blurred pair of pale green eyes watching him from a few feet away. It was Dobby.

"Hi, Dobby," Harry said in greeting and grinned as he sat up on the sofa and stretched.

"Hello, Harry Potter," squeaked the tiny elf as he hurried forward to hand Harry his glasses from the side table. "Did you sleep well, sir?"

"Yeah, I did," replied Harry. "How have you been, Dobby?"

"Dobby is fine, sir. Dobby was most happy when he heard Harry Potter would be returning so early to Hogwarts. Dobby has been most worried about Harry Potter since he lost Professor Dumbledore," finished the elf, with his moist eyes downcast.

"It's okay, Dobby; I miss him, too. I'm all right though, and I'm glad to be back here."

That was the truth. Harry felt more at peace here than anywhere else.

"Ron and Hermione will be here later today, too."

"Good," said Dobby. "Then Harry Potter won't be alone. If you was alone, sir, Dobby would be happy to stay with you."

"Thanks, Dobby," said Harry sincerely. "I know you would, but it won't be necessary."

Seeing the disappointment etching across Dobby's face, he quickly added, "I'll probably need you help on some very important things, though. Are you interested?"

"Oh, yes," said Dobby happily as he danced from one foot to the other. "Dobby will do anything for Harry Potter."

Harry knew that to be true.

"Okay, then. I'll be in touch."

"Right, Harry Potter," said Dobby with the biggest smile lighting his face as he picked up Harry's breakfast tray and vanished with a loud crack.

It was nearly noon by the time Harry finished unpacking and putting away his things. He wasn't sure what time Ron and Hermione were due to arrive. He glanced from a tower window and was happy to see a new cabin standing in place of the one that had been destroyed by the Death Eaters last month. Believing Hagrid had probably returned from Hogsmeade, Harry decided to visit his friend. Walking aimlessly along the seventh floor, he found he wasn't headed down the main staircase, but instead realized he'd walked through two additional corridors and was facing the base of the staircase that led to the Astronomy Tower.

It looked perfectly normal. There were no signs of the carnage and destruction that had transpired. McGonagall and the Order had repaired all the physical damage. Harry could still see it, though; it was playing through his mind's eye. He willed his suddenly heavy legs forward and climbed each step slowly. He was greeted at the top by the sight of a new, heavy wooden door. The door was locked from the inside by a series of solid, interlocking bars. It took Harry several minutes to undo them all. He used his body weight to push against the heavy door and stepped onto the now brilliantly lit tower roof.

The sun was warm on his face. He wanted to walk toward the parapet's edge, but seemed unable to move. For a moment, he felt as if he were under another binding spell but knew that wasn't so. It was simply his own memory and imagination that left him riveted to the spot. Harry forced himself forward until he found he was looking over the very spot from which Dumbledore plummeted. His heart rate seemed to have doubled. A soft breeze was dancing across him but he felt chilled to his core. He closed his eyes and found himself back on that dark rooftop with an ailing and weakened Dumbledore. He remembered it all, every detail. He could hear Dumbledore calming and reassuring a teetering and overwrought Draco. He recalled the headmaster pleading with the man he had trusted despite all other protests, and vividly remembered the twisted and menacing look on Snape's face. Most of all, he remembered feeling completely helpless, unable to do anything but stare in horror as the Killing Curse struck Dumbledore and sent him over the edge. Harry opened his eyes. He stared at the ground, certain of the spot on which Dumbledore's body had fallen. He turned and lowered himself to the floor of the roof, his back against the parapet wall.

How could this have happened? How could so much have gone wrong? He didn't think he'd ever be able to answer those questions. Instead, he decided to concentrate on answering the questions Dumbledore entrusted to him. The sun had moved across the sky and Harry's grumbling stomach caused him to look at his watch. It was a little past two and he'd been up here for a couple of hours. Harry stood and walked toward the open doorway.

He still hadn't visited Hagrid, but decided to stop by the kitchens first. As he passed the portrait to the Gryffindor common room, it swung outward and out stepped Ron and Hermione.

"There you are," said Hermione. "We were just about to go looking for you."

"Where've you been, mate?" asked Ron.

"I'm glad you two got here safely," said Harry, seamlessly sidestepping Ron's innocent inquiry. "I lost track of time and skipped lunch. I was just going to go grab something from the kitchens and head down to Hagrid's."

"Well, you can skip the kitchens. We only arrived about a half hour ago with Tonks, Kingsley and Lupin. Professor McGonagall has lunch set up in the Great Hall. We can eat and go see Hagrid together," said Ron.

They'd barely crossed the threshold to the Great Hall when a large shadow overtook them and Harry was lifted off his feet and engulfed in a rib-splintering vise. It was Hagrid. When he'd been set back down properly, Harry smiled warmly and looked into the bearded face of the gentle half giant.

"Harry, how are yeh? Did the Muggles give yeh a rough time? I wondered how yeh were getting on, I just wasn' sure if yeh were up…"

"It's okay, Hagrid," interrupted Harry. "I'm okay. I was worried about you, too. How are you doing?"

"Er, I'm getting on. It's been hard, but I know it's what Dumbledore would have wanted. We have ter carry on."

"We will, Hagrid," piped in Hermione. "We all will."

"Come on, I'm starving," cried Ron as he led the way to the single table in the center of the room.

Lupin, Tonks and Kingsley were already seated across from McGonagall and Moody. He, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid slid into the remaining empty seats. McGonagall clapped once and a delicious meal appeared. It looked like a mini opening term feast. Conversations were light and easy. No one mentioned Voldemort, Death Eaters, the Ministry or anything remotely unpleasant. Harry figured McGonagall had forbidden any such discussions. He looked around at everyone assembled. These were among the people he cared most about in this world. They were his real family. He would enjoy the remainder of this day unburdened; for tomorrow, his real duties would have to be met.


	11. Chapter 11: Thirty Two Days and Counting

CHAPTER ELEVEN: THIRTY-TWO DAYS AND COUNTING 

Harry awoke bright and early on Wednesday morning. He looked across the dormitory and saw Ron in the next four-poster, still fast asleep. Hedwig had not returned to her cage. She was either still out or bunking among the school birds in the Owlery. The room looked strangely empty, with the remaining three beds still stripped of mattresses and linens. It would be a little over a month before Seamus, Dean and Neville joined them. At least Harry hoped all three would be back.

Parents and students alike had been terrified once they'd learned of the Death Eaters' attack on Hogwarts. Even though the school governors had been persuaded to allow Hogwarts to reopen in September, there were bound to be parents who would refuse to allow their children to return.

Mrs. Finnigan and Seamus had gotten into a very loud argument over Seamus staying a few extra days to attend Dumbledore's funeral service. He'd won that battle, but Harry knew Mrs. Finnigan would rage war once the Hogwarts letters began arriving on Friday.

Dean Thomas, whose Muggle parents knew very little about Hogwarts, would most likely return.

And then there was Neville. Harry grinned for a moment when he pictured Neville's indomitable grandmother. Mrs. Longbottom had been a staunch supporter of Dumbledore's. Her support for his cause and beliefs would not waiver now. Harry knew Neville would definitely be returning. He suddenly remembered that today was Neville's seventeenth birthday.

They were a day apart in age, but as their birthdays were during the summer holidays, there'd never seemed a need to acknowledge them. This year however, Harry felt differently. He'd always liked Neville, but over the last several years, Neville had proven to be an incredible friend.

"I should send him something," Harry thought to himself, and grinned again when he thought of the perfect gift.

Harry got from his bed, retrieved some clothes from his wardrobe, his money pouch from his trunk and left the room.

Dressed, he made his way downstairs and took a seat at a corner desk beneath one of the tower windows. Harry pulled parchment and quill from the desk drawer and began composing a letter to Slugs & Jiggers Apothecary.

He'd finished his written order for a marble mortar and pestle set and was composing a birthday note to Neville when Hedwig flew through the partially open tower window under which he sat and landed on the edge of the desk.

"You've got perfect timing, Hedwig. Before you go to sleep, would you mind handling an errand for me?" asked Harry.

Hedwig hooted happily and stuck out one of her legs.

Harry finished the birthday note and opened his money pouch to count out what he estimated would be enough to cover the cost of the set. He rolled the letter and placed it, the coins, and Neville's note in a second pouch and secured it to Hedwig.

"Now, I need you to wait for them to fill the order and then you can take it and the smaller note to Neville Longbottom," said Harry. "You don't have to hang around for a response. Come straight back here, and make sure you're not followed. I'll have a treat waiting for you when you return, all right?"

Hedwig clicked her beak in acknowledgement, glided to the windowsill and took off into the morning sky.

Harry stood and watched her disappear. He knew Neville would get years of use from that gift. Funny, how the things you hate and love are often connected. Neville had despised Potions class, in part because he'd been tortured for five years by Snape; but he'd excelled more than anyone at Herbology. Harry was hard pressed to think of a potion that did not include a plant or herb in its intricate mix of ingredients.

He turned suddenly when a noise in the empty fireplace drew his attention. A moment later, green embers blazed out of nowhere and McGonagall's head appeared.

"Oh good, you are awake, Mr. Potter. Please come to my office," she said and her head vanished from the fireplace as quickly as it had appeared.

Harry left from the portrait hole and made his way to the headmistress's corridor, pausing only momentarily to speak the password to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance, and rode the winding staircase to the office entry. The door was already open.

"Good morning, Potter," said Professor McGonagall when she saw him.

"Good morning, Headmistress," he said, realizing it was the first time he'd called her that.

It felt weird to actually say it. He looked around the office and noticed some of the changes. They were small changes, but he suddenly felt rather out of place. Fawkes's perch had been removed, and only a handful of Dumbledore's whirring, spindle legged, silver instruments remained in haphazard spots. The others had been replaced by some of McGonagall's personal effects.

"Please have a seat, Potter," she said. "The others are on their way."

Harry sat in the same seat he'd held on numerous other occasions. His eyes rose to the portrait lined walls and many of its inhabitants were eying him curiously. He knew the portrait on the end was Dumbledore's. He braced himself and looked at it. Dumbledore was sleeping peacefully, just as he'd been on that horrible night last month.

McGonagall was watching Harry.

"He's been doing a lot of that – sleeping, that is. I'm told by the others," she said, pointing at the other portraits along the walls, "that that is to be expected and that he will become more animated as time passes. He does awaken for very brief periods and manages to give me orders, which is why we are here now."

Before Harry could speak, McGonagall looked past him to the staircase that had begun to turn once more. One by one, Moody, Lupin, Kingsley and Tonks stepped into the office.

"Good morning," everyone attempted to say almost simultaneously.

Lupin walked over and took the empty seat next to Harry. He pulled out his wand and conjured three more for the others. Once everyone was seated, McGonagall beckoned for Lupin to begin.

"Harry, we need to go over some things before we go," said Lupin.

"Okay," answered Harry.

"First, Alastor will be remaining on premise until term begins."

"Yeah, we figure my absence is the most likely to go unnoticed. Just in case, we've been dropping a few hints about how beat up I am over Dumbledore's death, and how I seem to have lost my desire to fight."

Tonks gave a combined snort and laugh.

"The Death Eaters are dumb enough to believe it, so we'll use it to our advantage. Let them think I've run off with my one good leg to lick my wounds. It really is a half-truth and half-lie. I've not made my peace with Dumbledore's death, but I'm too mad to roll over and play dead. I'll help finish what he started, and if I'm lucky, I'll get to finish off Snape, too."

"Alastor," cried McGonagall, in a disapproving tone as she glanced pointedly at Harry.

"It's fine, Professor McGonagall," said Harry flatly. "I'm in complete agreement."

"Harry," said Lupin somewhat sternly, "you apparently have other things to deal with. You are to leave Severus and the others to us."

Harry looked at Lupin, but he did not answer.

"I want your word, Harry, please," said Lupin when Harry seemed ready to dig in his heels.

Lupin was right. As much as he wanted to rip Snape apart, Harry had other more pressing things to finish. He gave in reluctantly.

"Fine," he answered. "I won't go looking for Snape. But can you tell me, has there been any word on him or Draco?"

"There has been nothing so far," answered Kingsley from just behind Harry's left shoulder. "They are near the top of the Ministry's most wanted list. We will keep you posted."

"Might we get back to the business at hand?' asked McGonagall, still sounding annoyed.

"Of course," said Lupin as he directed his attention to Harry once more. "Only Alastor will remain on premise until the start of term. We don't want to draw suspicion that you might already be here by having too many Aurors missing from the Ministry or too many Order members stationed in Hogsmeade or near the castle grounds."

"An appearance of normalcy is our best offense for the time being," added Tonks. "The school is as impenetrable as possible, especially now. It is almost completely empty during the summer holidays, and we don't want to alter that impression in any way."

"Once school reopens and word gets out that you are indeed here, we'll step up security and move to plan B," said Kingsley.

"So, if you need anything, Potter, just yell. I'll be in Snape's former quarters. It pays to know as much as possible about your enemy," he added quickly before Lupin or McGonagall could stop him.

"Harry," interrupted Lupin, "I went over some communication tactics with Ron and Hermione before we transported them here yesterday afternoon. They can fill you in."

"Okay, but umh, I can reach each of you on my own, now," Harry said tentatively.

"Oh," was the collective and somewhat confused response from the group, except Lupin.

He looked at Harry, smiled and said, "Very good."

Tonks, Kingsley, Lupin and Moody rose to leave.

"I'll get this lot out of here, Minerva," said Moody, "and then double check the barriers."

"Thank you, Alastor," she said.

Harry rose to follow them out, but McGonagall stopped him.

"We aren't quite finished, Mr. Potter. Please remain seated," she said.

Harry said goodbye to the others and plopped back down in the chair. He thought he was in for a lecture about Snape and Order responsibilities and what not, but he was wrong.

"As I mentioned briefly when you arrived yesterday," she began, " I've been directed to give you full access to the castle and its grounds."

She glanced at Dumbledore's still sleeping portrait and continued.

"While everything within me screams not to do so, I have promised to honor this request. I only ask that you not leave the castle without telling someone where you are going. I do not care if it is Alastor, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger or Nearly Headless Nick. The grounds are expansive and in the event we need to get to you quickly, it would be helpful to know where to look. Agreed?"

"Yes, of course, Professor," said Harry.

"Very well. Please note, your access most certainly includes the library, and with it, the restricted section. Madame Pince and Mr. Filch are thankfully on holiday for the time being. Your access will continue once school begins, but please do exercise discretion and caution. As Nymphadora explained, the appearance of normalcy is critical."

"I promise, I will," replied Harry.

"Lastly, but equally important, you are not to perform any magic in the castle until after your birthday. The Ministry normally pays no attention to underage magic at Hogwarts because it is the exception to the rule during the school year. However, students are never on premise during the summer holidays and we don't want to alert more people than necessary to your presence here. Am I understood?"

"Most definitely, Professor," replied Harry.

"Good. I've asked Dobby to see to it that meals are served to you, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger in the Gryffindor common room. Hagrid is welcome to join you, as well. You may go, now. Please find me if I can be of any assistance," she finished.

"I will. Thank you, Headmistress," said Harry as he left her office.

When Harry walked back through the portrait hole, Hermione and Ron were sitting on the sofa. He couldn't help noticing that Hermione looked slightly flushed and Ron's ears were reddening at the tips.

Harry did his best to stifle the laugh and grin that were fighting to break through and said, "Good morning. Has Hedwig returned, yet?"

"Good morning, Harry," replied Hermione. "No, we haven't seen Hedwig; but Dobby brought breakfast up a little while ago. We haven't eaten yet, though," she finished.

"Yeah," added Ron, "we thought we'd wait a bit for you to return. Where'd you go, anyway?"

Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He was certain his absence had not been the reason they'd been distracted from starting breakfast.

He kept a straight face and said, "Oh, thanks for waiting for me. I was with McGonagall and the others."

As they sat down to eat, Harry relayed the conversations that had taken place in McGonagall's office. Hermione and Ron listened without interruption.

"Wow, this feels like a final chess match," said Ron.

"Yeah, and the first pawn has already been moved," replied Harry.

Hedwig arrived back safe and sound. Harry rewarded her with a bit of sausage and some juice. When she was sated, she fluttered lightly to Harry's shoulder and nipped playfully at his ear, before stretching her wings and taking flight from the room once more for some rest in the Owlery among her feathered friends.

"Harry," began Hermione, "we need to figure out where to start."

"I know," said Harry. "We've got the school to ourselves for a little over a month. At least we won't have to worry about prying eyes."

"True," said Ron. "We just have to worry about everything else, like identifying and finding the other Horcruxes. And yeah, destroying them, too. That's real easy," he added as he rolled his eyes.

Hermione looked like she was about to launch into one of her plans, but Harry beat her to it.

"Let's start at the beginning," he said. "You're right, Ron. We do need to identify the remaining Horcruxes, first. Dumbledore was pretty adamant about what he believed those items might be, or at the very least, to whom they once belonged."

"Right," said Hermione.

"We started with six Horcruxes," continued Harry.

"Riddle's diary and Marvolo's ring have been destroyed," said Ron.

"That's two down," said Hermione.

"Dumbledore believed Nagini was the sixth Horcrux, and I won't be able to get to her until it's time to face him, so we can table that one for now," he said matter-of-factly.

Hermione and Ron were thrown for a moment. They knew what Harry had to do. He'd told them everything that happened, and even though they'd known all along he was determined to do what needed to be done, there was something different about him, about his tone. Hermione was the first to recover.

"Okay, that's three; half down," she said.

"That leaves Slytherin's locket," said Harry. "Dumbledore risked his very life in pursuit of that Horcrux. And even though we ended up with a fake, at least we know exactly what we are looking for. The locket is definitely a Horcrux. We have to identify R.A.B. and go from there."

"Maybe R.A.B. already destroyed it, Harry," added Ron.

"That'd be great, but I have to be sure. Five destroyed Horcruxes will be meaningless," said Harry.

"Okay, that leaves two more Horcruxes to identify, first," said Hermione.

"Correct. Dumbledore was certain Voldemort would have wanted to use items from the Hogwarts Four. Gryffindor's possessions were in Dumbledore's office forever, so that would have been nearly impossible. He'd already used two items from Slytherin, so that would leave something from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw," reasoned Harry.

"Right," said Hermione. "So, here are our first three tasks. We need to narrow down the objects from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw that would have appealed to Voldemort, and we need to identify R.A.B. in order to find the real locket Horcrux.

"Yes," said Harry. "And don't forget, the Hufflepuff Horcrux is almost certainly a cup."

"Got it," said Hermione.

"I'm glad you do. All I've got is a headache," said Ron.

"We'll start in the library," said Harry.

"Are you suddenly turning into Hermione on me, or what?" asked Ron.

Hermione tossed a sofa pillow at Ron's head before turning back to Harry.

"A month seems like a long time, but we've got a thousand years of history and countless reference materials to check out. Any idea on how you'd like to start?" she asked.

"Let's divide and conquer," answered Harry. "You can start researching Rowena Ravenclaw. I have no idea what we could possibly be looking for, so jot down anything that sticks out for you."

Harry turned to Ron.

"Ron, you can start the search for R.A.B. again. I know Hermione tried at the end of term, but try again, okay? If you still don't come up with any possibilities, drop the middle initial and try R.B. Same deal, make a note of anything that sticks out, no matter how obscure."

Harry was quiet for a moment.

"I'm going to take a crack at Hufflepuff's cup. I'll pull whatever resources I can, on the off chance that Voldemort got his hands on something else of hers. After all, he did have two Slytherin objects, so anything's possible."

"We can write down everything of note we uncover and review our information together. If anything major surfaces, we can address those items immediately."

"That's a good approach, Harry," said Hermione. "Dobby's in charge of maintaining Gryffindor Tower for the summer, so none of our materials should be disturbed."

"For now, anyway," said Ron. "What do we do when school starts?"

"Maybe we can meet after curfew in the library's restricted section or something," offered Harry. "We can soundproof whatever room we're in."

"And Harry," added Hermione, with her eyes lighting with ideas, "we can use the journal Lupin gave you. I'm assuming it works just like the Marauder's Map. We can section it into three parts, and use it to note anything we agree is important. We can burn our individual notes in the fireplaces."

"Let's try it," he said and looked at Ron.

Ron pulled his wand and summoned the journal from upstairs. Harry took the quill from the nearby desk and opened the journal to the first page. Across the top he wrote _Rowena Ravenclaw_ in black ink and handed the journal to Hermione.

"See what happens," he said.

Hermione tapped the journal with her wand and said, "Mischief managed."

She opened the journal to the first page and smiled. She turned it around to face Harry and Ron and all they saw was a blank page.

"Nice," said Ron.

"Well," said Harry, "we've got thirty-two days and counting until school starts. Let's see what we can do."

"Harry," said Hermione, "we can do this."

He looked at his two best friends at said, "I know. No time like the present, right?"

They grabbed parchment and quills and left to spend the remainder of a beautiful summer's day in the library.

Hermione hadn't been wrong. Their tasks were indeed daunting. They worked through lunch and after hour upon hour in the library, they'd only managed to make a list of the books and references they thought merited review; but it was a start.

Harry called out for Dobby, who popped from thin air instantaneously.

"Hi, Dobby," said Harry.

"Hello, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby. "Hello, sir. Hello, miss," he added in turn to Ron and Hermione. "Dobby was worried when he saw Harry Potter and his friends had not eaten the lunch Dobby left for them."

"Sorry, Dobby," said Harry. "We worked through lunch…Listen, if it's not too much trouble, would you mind putting dinner in a picnic basket for us? We'd like to eat outside, by the lake."

"Dobby would be happy to do that for you, sir," squeaked the elf. " It will be ready for Harry Potter in an hour."

"Thanks, Dobby. We really appreciate this. You can leave the basket by the entrance door and we'll grab it on our way out. Would you please let Professor McGonagall know where we'll be?" asked Harry.

"Of course, Harry Potter, sir," he said and disappeared with another crack.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spent nearly the entire hour cleaning up the mess they'd made in the library and putting their things away in their dorm rooms. They met downstairs in the common room and walked down to the main entrance together. The castle seemed eerily quiet. Harry suspected Professor McGonagall was somewhere in her quarters. They'd not seen Moody or Hagrid at all today.

Ron heaved the basket Dobby had left for them and they made their way outdoors and across the grounds, breathing in the fragrant summer air. The trio stopped beneath their favorite tree. The sky had already darkened and Hermione conjured a few lanterns for their use. They sat silently and watched slow ripples moving across the lake.

Finally, "Can we just eat and not talk about a single book, please?" begged Ron.

"I've got no argument," said Harry. "We can sort through all our jumbled thoughts in the morning. Maybe something will sink into my brain in my sleep."

Hermione nodded and began pulling food from the basket and the trio settled in for a couple hours lakeside.

They were tired and stiff when they made their way back into the castle. Ron detoured to return the basket downstairs in the kitchens and Hermione and Harry waited for him. It wasn't quite ten o'clock when they were admitted once more into the common room, but it might as well have been one AM.

Harry was the first to say goodnight and left the common room, trying to give Ron and Hermione some time alone. He knew they were as exhausted as he was when Ron came upstairs only fifteen minutes after Harry.

Harry's birthday was in a couple of hours, but he never even saw the clock strike midnight.


	12. Chapter 12: Birthday and Backlash

CHAPTER TWELVE: BIRTHDAY, BACKLASH AND BEYOND

Harry's seventeenth birthday seemed to arrive without incident. At least that's what he believed when he made his way downstairs to the common room Thursday morning. He was reading through the list of reference books they'd compiled the day before, trying to decide which ones he would start perusing today. He wasn't really paying attention to where he was walking and narrowly missed colliding with Dobby, who'd been standing quietly at the base of the stairs.

"Happy Birthday, Harry Potter, sir," squealed the house-elf, with his big round eyes shining with excitement.

"Hi, Dobby. Thanks," said Harry.

"Dobby was just setting up breakfast, sir. Dobby was going to bring your gifts upstairs, but since Harry Potter is awake, he can open them in here," exclaimed Dobby.

"What gifts? I already…" began Harry, but stopped short when he saw the pile of items Dobby had placed on a nearby table.

"Here, Harry Potter, open this one first," said Dobby gleefully. "It is from Dobby, sir."

It would be useless to tell Dobby he did not need to give him gifts, so Harry put down the list and accepted the package, already guessing at what it contained. Sure enough, he unwrapped it and found a pair of mismatched socks, made by Dobby, of course. One sock was yellow, with little images of birthday cakes sewn on them; the other, in bright purple, was adorned in tiny presents and streamers.

"Do you like them, sir?" asked Dobby.

"I do, Dobby," answered Harry. "Thank you."

"Harry Potter is most welcome, sir."

"See you later, Dobby," said Harry as the house elf waved and disappeared on the spot.

Harry peered at the other packages on the table. One was a badly wrapped, and as Harry inspected it closely, peculiar smelling package. He knew immediately that it was from Kreacher. The feeble and batty house elf was probably lurking about in the kitchens below. Dobby had not mentioned him and Harry had hardly given any thought to the Black family house-elf. He'd have to remember to inquire with Dobby and make sure Kreacher was staying out of trouble. In the meantime, Harry had no intention of repeating the gift fiasco from last Christmas. Opening anything from Kreacher would be foolish. He simply pulled his wand and with a silent banishing spell, sent whatever was in the package soaring into a wastebasket across the room.

There were two other large packages on the table. A very colorful card was taped to the top of one of them, and Harry immediately recognized Hagrid's writing. He opened the card and smiled as he read:

_Happy Birthday Harry,_

_Hard to believe that it was six years ago when I came to bring you your Hogwarts letter._

_A whole lot has happened since then. Your mum and dad would be proud of you._

_Anyhow, I made this for you and I hope you like it. Come down to the cabin and I'll show you how to use it. And one more thing, Fang and I were hoping to come and have dinner with you, Ron and Hermione tonight. Let us know if it's all right._

_Hagrid_

Harry slowly opened the package and said, "Wow," to the empty room.

Hagrid had given him an impressively carved archery bow, complete with a set of hand-tooled arrows and a quiver. He'd put a lot of time and effort into making this and Harry was sincerely moved.

The last box was rather heavy. Harry reached for the folded card affixed to it and found it was from Dumbledore. This note was quite short:

_Harry,_

_Again, if you are reading this, then I obviously have no further need of this particular item. You have always had a certain affinity for it anyway, and I suspect now more than ever, you may find great use for it._

_Happy Birthday,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry opened the box and to his great amazement, found it contained Dumbledore's Pensieve. He ran a hand around the outer rim of the cool, stone basin and remembered his last trip into its depths with Dumbledore.

Lost in thought, he had not immediately noticed that the table also held a rather thick envelope. Spotting it, he reached past the unwrapped Pensieve and read the envelope. It was addressed to Mr. Harry Potter, in care of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Only the Order was supposed to know he was here. How had this reached him? He turned the envelope over and saw the wax seal from Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Baffled at what this could possibly be about, Harry opened the envelope and unfolded a very official looking letter.

_Mr. Harry Potter,_

_This is to inform you that as you are officially of age as of midnight today, the thirty-first of July, 1997, you are hereby granted unabridged access to and control of the inheritance bequeathed to you in accordance with the last will and testament of James and Lily Potter, executed upon their death on the thirty-first of October, 1981._

_As Executor of estate #768837, Gringotts Wizarding Bank has consistently provided monthly maintenance allowances and accrued interest to you, in concert with the terms outlined in said will and resulting trust (Refer to enclosed Exhibits A and B)._

As of today, the full value of the estate stands at 1,081,263 Galleons. (Refer to enclosed Exhibit C for a complete listing of assets and holdings).

_Representatives of Gringotts Wizarding Bank look forward to serving all your future pecuniary needs. Please do contact us at your earliest convenience to discuss any questions or concerns you may have. _

_Sincerely,_

_Griphook_

_Assets Management_

Harry was beyond stunned. He managed the calculation in his head and concluded that he'd just inherited more money than the Dursleys could ever dream of spending. He read the letter again. So, the money that he'd been withdrawing over the last six years had only been accrued interest and monthly stipends. He knew his father had inherited money from Harry's grandparents, but he'd never really known how much and certainly did not know how the Potter fortune had been amassed. Harry also had a second inheritance left to him by Sirius.

"Unbelievable," he said aloud.

He knew there'd be no way he'd ever spend all of it in one lifetime. What would he do with it? Harry had enough things running through his head at the moment. This one would have to wait. He made a mental note to contact Bill Weasley later. In the meantime, he tucked the letter in the very bottom of the package from Hagrid for safekeeping until he could move it to his trunk.

He'd been gathering discarded wrapping paper when he heard footsteps and turned to see Hermione coming downstairs.

"Good morning, Harry. Happy Birthday."

"Good morning, Hermione. Thanks," he replied.

"I sent a little wake me up surprise to Ron. He should…"she began.

Whatever else Hermione was saying was drowned out by the sound of Ron yelling from upstairs. He came barreling down the staircase, his hair dripping wet and slicked to his head and his pajama top drenched.

Harry and Hermione burst into fits of laughter.

"I guess I don't have to guess which one of you thought it'd be funny to have the water pitcher hover and tip over my head," he said irritably.

"Well, I thought you might like to come down and wish Harry a happy birthday before the day is over," she replied.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," said Ron as he wiped dripping water from his face. "I guess now that I'm washed, I'll just run back up and get dressed," he added with a scowl at Hermione as he retreated back up to the dormitory.

Following breakfast, Harry showed Ron and Hermione the bow and arrow set from Hagrid, as well as Dumbledore's Pensieve. Ron was quite impressed with Hagrid's craftsmanship and Hermione was of course, fascinated by the runes etched on the basin.

"Can I come with you when Hagrid teaches you how to use it?" asked Ron.

"Of course," answered Harry. "Listen, you two can head to the library. I'm going to run up and put these away and meet you there."

"Okay," replied Hermione. "And don't forget to send Hedwig with a reply to Hagrid about dinner tonight."

"Right," said Harry, as he cast a hover charm and floated the boxes upstairs ahead of himself. See you in a few minutes."

About fifteen minutes later, Harry joined his friends in the library and cringed when he saw the size of the books Hermione and Ron had already stacked in the center of a long table.

"Harry, I pulled these for you," said Hermione as she pushed three huge volumes towards him.

Harry read the titles on the spine and saw that they were indeed among the ones he was interested in starting with this morning:

_Helga Hufflepuff: From Wales to Hogwarts_

_The Heart of Helga Hufflepuff _

A History of Hufflepuff House 

"Thanks," said Harry, slowly.

"Is something wrong? Those are on our list, aren't they?"

"Sorry, no, these are definitely on this list," replied Harry. "I've just been thinking more about that memory Dumbledore extracted from Hokey; and honestly, Voldemort's reaction to it."

"You still think it's the cup, don't you?" asked Ron.

"Absolutely," replied Harry. "I've been thinking about it most of the morning, and the more I do, the less I believe there could potentially be a second Hufflepuff relic or even a second Ravenclaw relic, for that matter. I mean it makes since Voldemort would relish having two Slytherin relics since he is a direct descendant. But of the other founders, one relic from each would have completed his collection."

"How can you really know?" asked Hermione.

"It's hard to explain. I mean it's more about getting into Voldemort's head. My gut tells me he hadn't originally planned to use that ring as a Horcrux. He valued that above everything, enough to want to keep it. He was wearing it while he was still a student here. No, I think he reluctantly turned it into a Horcrux when he failed to secure a Gryffindor relic. I'm guessing he'd managed to track down something of Ravenclaw's and we know he already had Hufflepuff's cup, so he wouldn't have wanted anything else of hers."

"Okay," said Hermione, "that makes sense. The Horcruxes had to represent things he thought important. So four from the Hogwarts founders, the diary because it was an incredible bit of student magic and a testament to his growing power, and finally Nagini, because it is the only living creature for which he's ever had an ounce of affinity."

"That's pretty much it, yeah," remarked Harry.

"Sorry, but does that mean you are or aren't going to research Hufflepuff?" asked Ron.

"Oh, I definitely am. I still have no idea where the cup could be. Voldemort could have hidden it somewhere significant to him; but he also could have chosen somewhere significant to Hufflepuff or her descendants. And that, I'm afraid," said Harry as he looked at the pile of books, "could be almost anywhere."

For the next ten hours, the trio worked in comfortable silence. The only sounds were of quills on parchment, sighs of fatigue and chairs scraping back from the table when each needed to take short breaks and shake the cobwebs from their minds.

Ron came back from one such break with a tray of sandwiches he'd pilfered from the kitchens. Madame Pince would have thrown a fit if she had any inkling that students would dare eat in her library; but they didn't want to lose their momentum, so they ate carefully around the growing piles of books and notes.

"There yer are," came a booming voice from the library doorway.

It was Hagrid. They had completely forgotten the time and their plans to meet him for dinner.

"Sorry, Hagrid," said Harry.

"Are yer lot okay? You look really tired," commented Hagrid.

"We're fine, Hagrid," said Ron.

"What are yer working on? School doesn't start for a month," remarked Hagrid.

"Oh, I thought it would be a good idea to get an early start on preparing for our N.E.W.T.s," lied Hermione.

Hagrid was looking at them suspiciously, but Harry distracted him before he could comment further or ask any more questions.

"Just give us twenty minutes to clean up and we'll meet you at the portrait hole," said Harry. "Where's Fang?"

"He's downstairs in the entrance hall. I guess I'll go and get him."

"Okay," the trio chimed together as Hagrid left.

Harry, Ron and Hermione waved their wands and sent every book flying back to their proper shelf spaces, grabbed their notes and hurried back to the common room. Dobby had already set up dinner at a table near the fireplace and strung birthday decorations, as well.

Hermione stayed downstairs to admit Hagrid and Fang. Harry and Ron made a quick trip upstairs to toss all their notes into Ron's trunk. They'd been back in the common room only moments when Hermione opened the portrait hole and stepped back to allow Hagrid to enter with Fang close behind.

Fang's excitement was uncontainable. He bounded across the room and launched himself at Harry, nearly knocking the wind out of him and trying desperately to lick at his face. Harry laughed and petted the huge boarhound and scratched behind his ears.

"Hi, boy," he said. "It's good to see you, too," said Harry.

Fang barked once and left Harry's side to turn his attention to Ron. Ron was still standing at the base of the staircase and when Fang barreled into him, he found himself knocked to a sitting position on the staircase. Fang had a clear shot at Ron's face and wasted no time slobbering at his ears.

Hermione laughed and Fang took one look at her, as if trying to figure out how he'd missed her when he entered. The dog tore back across the room, and to everyone's amazement, skidded into a stop in front of Hermione, and simply looked up at her with anticipation. His body was quivering and his tail was thumping a mile a minute, but he did not bounce.

"Good boy," said Hermione as she bent forward and lavished pets and praise upon the enormous dog's head.

"Figures," mumbled Ron under his breath as he wiped at his face.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," said Hagrid and pulled a cake box from behind his back. "I made this for yer," he added.

Harry took the box and opened it to find a cake, almost identical to the first one he'd ever gotten. Hagrid had made that one, as well.

"Thanks, Hagrid," he said. "And thanks for the bow and arrow set. It's incredible. I can't wait for you to show me how to use it."

"Yer liked it, then. Good. I expect yer will pick it up quick," he said. Why don't yer come down to the cabin tomorrow afternoon and we can try it out."

Harry didn't know how to tell Hagrid his afternoons would be full without raising his suspicions or hurting his feelings. Hermione seemed to sense his dilemma.

"Yeah, Harry, that sounds like fun. Ron can go with you. I know you two don't want to spend every day of the remaining holidays locked up in the library with me," she said.

Harry looked at her and seemed to be able to read her mind. He could spare a few hours each week to spend with Hagrid, especially if it gave the impression that things were perfectly normal. They didn't need anyone commenting on anything that seemed out of norm.

"Okay, how's two o'clock?" asked Harry.

"Fang and I'll be waiting for yer," answered Hagrid happily.

Over the next few weeks, the friends fell into a well-established routine. They were usually in the library by eight in the morning worked straight through until about one o'clock.

They'd break for a quick lunch, and twice a week, Harry would walk down to Hagrid's cabin for his archery lessons. Ron and Hermione usually accompanied him at least once. Hagrid had been right; Harry did seem to have a natural talent for it. He loved the feel of the tension in the bow when it was strung and the unmistakable sound of the arrow when it was released correctly.

By mid afternoon, they'd be back in the library and would work until dinnertime. The late evening hours were for reviewing and updating their ever-growing list of notes and information.

Harry and Hermione were finding out more and more about the two witches who'd helped establish Hogwarts. He'd had no idea there'd be so much to digest and decipher. Ron had a pretty impressive list going of any potential R.A.B.s or R.B.s. It was a monstrous task, and he'd gotten as far as the wizards with last names beginning with "Be," first names starting with "Ra."

Harry had just returned from a lesson with Hagrid late one afternoon during the start of their third week at the castle, when an echoing sound down a side corridor caught his attention. The sound grew closer and he recognized it before he saw anything. It was the sound of hooves.

Firenze rounded the corner of the corridor and came forward into the entrance hall.

"Good afternoon, Harry Potter," said the centaur. "I was wondering when I might run into you."

"Hello, Firenze. I didn't know you were here," said Harry and immediately realized how stupid that sounded.

Firenze had been banished from the Forbidden Forest by his own heard almost two years ago. Where else would he be?

"You haven't been downstairs much since you arrived, so of course, you would not have noticed me around. Aside from my quarters, I have also been spending a lot of time outdoors. I can't reenter my former home, but Hogwarts has beautiful grounds and I have spent most of the summer enjoying them."

"Still, you must miss your home," said Harry. "I wish there was some way to make things better."

"That is very kind of you," said the centaur. "I have accepted that which I cannot change, so do not worry over it. You have more than enough to contend with," he added, looking intently at Harry with his piercing blue eyes.

Harry looked back at the centaur but did not comment. Firenze broke the silence.

"You seem different, Harry Potter," he said simply.

"Do I?" said Harry. "How?"

"I suspect you know the answer to that better than I," replied the centaur.

Harry found this an odd answer, but decided to leave it alone.

"Are you all set for lessons this term?" asked Harry, trying to change the subject.

"There isn't very much for me to do," answered Firenze. "As I've said before, humans are usually ill adept at true Divination. I do, however, have an interesting assignment for this term."

"Oh, that's good," said Harry. "I hope it goes well."

'That is my hope, also. We shall see. Good afternoon, Harry Potter," replied the centaur and he turned to canter slowly back down the corridor.

"Well, that was strange," Harry thought to himself as he headed for the staircase. He'd gone only a few feet when he heard his name called. He turned and saw Moody closing the door to the main entrance.

"There you are, Potter. Hagrid said you'd gone back up to the castle. I'm glad I caught you before you got up to the library."

"Hi, Moody," said Harry. "What's going on?"

"Go grab young Weasley and Miss Granger and meet me in Minerva's office," he said.

Harry dashed to the library and he, Ron and Hermione were knocking on the door atop the winding staircase within minutes.

"Come in," came Moody's gruff voice.

They opened the door and stepped inside. Professor McGonagall wasn't present, but Moody was seated behind her desk.

"Have a seat," he said, conjuring a third chair for them.

"Is anything wrong?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, You-Know-Who's out in the world," said Moody. "Aside from that, it was time to give you an update on what's been going on."

"Okay," they answered together.

"As you know, the start of school term letters went out days after you arrived. Everything remained quiet for a while, but we now know that information has reached You-Know-Who and his band of Death Eaters."

"How can you be sure?" asked Ron.

"Because two of the school governors were ambushed and killed this week. I guess the Dark Lord was displeased when he heard Hogwarts would reopen," said Moody.

"Oh no," gasped Hermione.

"How?" asked Ron.

"We knew they'd be likely targets and the Ministry offered each of them protection. Of the two killed, one was foolish enough to believe he didn't need security. The other was guarded by an Auror, but they got to him and his guard," explained Moody.

Harry had been listening to all of it, but he hadn't moved a muscle or made a sound. Moody glanced at him before continuing.

"Things are going to get much more intense. When they can't find you, they are going to get desperate and attempt to make a grab for you before they think you'll reach Hogwarts, obviously on the first day of term."

Harry blinked once and nodded ever so slightly, but still said nothing.

"The Ministry Aurors will be handling security at King's Cross Station and aboard the Hogwarts Express. They've got help coming from the U.S. through Kingsley's father, as well as aid from some other contingents. Once the train reaches Hogsmeade, we'll be loading students on the Knight Bus, which will be staffed and guarded by Aurors and Order members. Some parents will insist on transporting their own children, and if they do so, they will get no farther than Hogsmeade. Final transport to Hogwarts will be controlled on the Knight Bus."

"Moody," began Ron, "is there any way…"

"Don't worry, Weasley. Ginny will be escorted under separate cover by one of us. She'll arrive well in advance of the others sometime that morning."

"And when Voldemort realizes I'm not part of the transport and that I'm safely inside this castle, what happens?" Harry finally asked, his voice strained, even to his own ears.

Moody looked at him quite seriously before answering, "All hell will break loose and we will act and react accordingly."

Hermione winced and Ron's brow furrowed. Harry's eyes seemed to have darkened. It was like looking at a field of grass artificially colored by rolling storm clouds.

"Weasley and Granger, give me a moment alone with Potter, please."

"Yeah, sure," said Ron, getting to his feet as Hermione did the same.

"We'll wait for you in the common room, Harry," said Hermione as they left the office and pulled the door shut.

"Okay, Potter, let's get some things straight," began Moody. "There is absolutely nothing you can do to stop anything going on outside these walls. This is war, and it is likely to get a whole lot worse. It'll be long and hard and ugly. It was the last time and I hold no illusions that it will be different this time."

"But if I…" began Harry, but Moody cut him off.

"If you do what, Potter? Run out and get yourself slaughtered? Turn yourself over to the Dark Lord? Give up on what you and Dumbledore set out to do? If you do any of those things, You-Know-Who still wins. I don't know what all you've got going, but I do know, whatever it is, you're only going to get one shot at it. Am I right?"

"Most likely," answered Harry.

"Well then, make it count. Finish what you have to and do what you have to. It will take as long as it takes, and there's nothing we can do about that. The Order and the Ministry will fight it and contain it as long as possible. It's what we do. You just do what you need to do. Whoever is left standing will be waiting for you when you're ready. Understand me, son?"

Harry looked into Moody's harsh and mangled face and knew every word he'd spoken was the cold, hard truth.

"Perfectly," he said and stood to leave. "And Moody, in case I don't get to say this later, thank you."


	13. Chapter 13: Founders, Friends, Foes

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: FOUNDERS, FRIENDS AND FOES

By the middle of their last week of solitude, Harry, Ron and Hermione had compiled an impressive summary of notes and information on everything they could get their hands on concerning Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. Whatever hadn't been discarded as irrelevant or unimportant had been duplicated in the journal Lupin had given Harry. Everything was marked and color-coded. The last section of the journal had been reserved for Ron's list of potential R.A.B.s. He was working from school rosters and other reference books and it would be an ongoing search. He'd gotten as far as witches with last names starting with "Ben," first name beginning with "Ra."

Hermione took the rest of their original notes and set them in the center of the common room fireplace. With a flick from her wand, the pile of parchment went up in flames and vanished into nothingness.

"I'm going to keep working on this list for now," said Ron. "I want to get through as much of the rosters as possible before everyone arrives on Monday. What are you two going to do?"

"Harry and I were discussing that earlier," said Hermione. "We're going to go check out Professor Sprout's and Professor Flitwick's offices and quarters."

"Really," said Ron.

"Yeah, we've never really been in them for any extended periods of time. Most of their personal items are probably packed away, so we may get a good look at items that have been housed in the castle for long periods of time," explained Hermione.

"We're hoping they may have items in their offices that belonged to either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw," said Harry.

"And how do you plan on getting in them?" asked Ron. "I know McGonagall said we had access to the castle, but I can't imagine she meant private quarters and offices, too."

"There's only one way to find out," said Harry.

"So, let's say you can get in. You don't think they've got Horcruxes sitting on their shelves, do you?" asked Ron.

"Not exactly," said Hermione. "But they may have relics like Dumbledore did. It won't hurt to take a look."

"Honestly, I wish the other professors were arriving early so we could talk to them, but that won't be happening," added Harry. "I talked to McGonagall and she said they would be arriving around the same time as Ginny, which means early Monday morning."

"Well, they certainly will know more about Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw than we can possibly learn in so short a time frame. Something they know could provide better clues or point us in the right direction. We found out a lot, but it would help to get their opinions," reasoned Hermione.

"And you think they'll just pull up a couple of chairs and start chatting with you and Harry about dear old Helga and Rowena," said Ron.

"No, silly," answered Hermione. "I'll probably make up some story about wanting to do a special report on the founders and ask to interview them," said Hermione.

"And of course, just to make sure they don't get suspicious, you'll actually do the report, right?" he added.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" replied Hermione.

"No reason, just checking," answered Ron.

"Knock it off, you two," said Harry with a grin. "Come on Hermione, let's start with Professor Sprout's office."

The door to her office and adjoining quarters was closed, but not locked. Professor McGonagall was true to her word. Harry and Hermione entered it and looked around. It occurred to Harry that he'd never been in it. Since Herbology was taught in the greenhouses and they weren't in Hufflepuff house, he'd never had occasion or need to seek Professor Sprout out for anything outside of class.

The office was one of the smaller ones, but full of windows emitting lots of sunlight. There was one long bookcase filled to capacity with what Harry assumed to be every book on Herbology and plant life ever written. While he had never been inside here, he was certain Neville had. There was one row of four student desks that faced a much larger, worn teacher's desk. That desk had been cleared away for the summer, but Harry had no problem imagining it covered with odd bits of plants, potting soil, portable plant beds and the like.

Hermione moved behind Professor Sprout's desk to examine the items resting on a very old, but handsome bookshelf.

She picked up one book, leafed through it and said, "Harry, come take a look."

Harry read over Hermione's shoulder and was pleased to see they had indeed found something of Helga Hufflepuff's. It was a recipe book, and judging by the smeared and well- worn pages, it appeared to have actually been written by Helga Hufflepuff.

"Well, that fits with some of your research, right?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, it does," said Harry. "Hufflepuff was the heart of that foursome. Almost every planning meeting for starting Hogwarts took place in her home, and supposedly, around the dinner table."

"She was the nurturer of the group, then," said Hermione.

"Yes, but she was more than that. Sure, she loved to cook and entertain, but she was a brilliant witch, as well, and not just at Herbology."

"Do you remember the Sorting Hat song? Didn't it once say Hufflepuff basically let the others have their pick and happily took all the rest?" asked Hermione as she continued gently turning the pages of the recipe book.

"Yeah, I remember something like that," said Harry as he stepped closer to the shelf and stooped to get a better look at a lower shelf.

Something had caught his eye. It was a leather bond book. He opened it and again, saw the same penmanship that ran through the recipe book.

"Hermione, I think this is one of her journals," said Harry as he flipped towards the end. "Look at the date."

Hermione stepped beside him, looked at the open page and said, "Harry, isn't this near the time period when Slytherin broke from the others and left Hogwarts?"

"Yes, it is," answered Harry.

He started flipping the journal pages carefully, from back to front. He stopped when he'd gone through about twenty or so pages of the journal.

"Hermione, Slytherin is mentioned in here a lot. I mean, they all are, but he is mentioned more than the others."

"That's odd, isn't it?" she asked. "I mean, didn't the Sorting Hat also say Gryffindor and Slytherin had been best friends; and so had Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, at least in the beginning."

"Yes, but from what I've read, she appears to have been the mediator and the voice of reason for the foursome," explained Harry.

"So maybe Hufflepuff was the one who convinced Slytherin to stay as long as he did. I mean, he'd been spouting his pure blood mantra for a while by then, right?" she added.

"Yeah, he had. That's got to be it. It makes sense if she was the sounding board for all of them."

"You think so?" asked Hermione.

"Well, she was definitely more apt to try and understand him, far more than Ravenclaw would have been, right?" said Harry. "And we know his friendship with Gryffindor was eventually severed over his pure blood beliefs. In fact, it was following a huge fight with Gryffindor that Slytherin built his secret chamber and finally left Hogwarts."

"Okay, so all of that is true. Do you want to read the whole journal and see if there's anything else useful?" she asked.

"I do; but I don't want to take it from here. Do you mind going alone to Flitwick's quarters?" he asked.

"No problem, let's meet back in the common room."

"Okay," he said distractedly.

"Harry, what are you thinking?" she said as she turned to leave.

"I'm thinking that of the remaining three founders, Hufflepuff was probably the most affected by Slytherin's departure. I mean yeah, he and Gryffindor had been best mates, and Godric Gryffindor would have been furious; but after a fight like that, he seemed more the type to draw a line in the sand and not look back. I think Hufflepuff would have felt more disappointment in someone she'd considered a friend. I'm hoping that feeling of friendship was reciprocated," he said.

"Because…"started Hermione.

"Because if Hufflepuff was also important to Slytherin, then young Tom Riddle would have definitely uncovered that connection and…"

"And Voldemort would have likely hidden the cup somewhere that was important to both his ancestor and that ancestor's friend," finished Hermione.

"Exactly. And there can't be too many of those locations. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to identify some of them in this," he said, waving the journal at her.

"Brilliant," said Hermione. "I'll leave you to it. See you later."

Harry spent several hours reading every word of Hufflepuff's journal and had not been disappointed. Helga Hufflepuff had definitely cared for and worried a lot about Salazar Slytherin. Her writing eloquently expressed her concern for her friend's ever darkening mood and restlessness. She referenced happier times of old and wished they could go back to them.

When he'd finished reading, he grabbed a quill from the drawer of Professor Sprout's desk, pulled his wand and thought, _"Accio Marauder's journal."_

It appeared almost instantly and Harry quickly turned to the yellow tabbed section of the journal, tapped it with his wand and said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," and watched all his earlier notes fill the pages. He flipped to an empty page and wrote:

_Try:_

_Greenhouses 3 & 4 and surrounding grounds_

_Largest tree on east side of lake_

_Treasured hand carved gift??_

_Kitchens_

_Wales childhood home_

_Norfolk manor ruins_

Harry looked at the list he'd made and hoped that he was on the right track. He tapped the book once more, said, "Mischief managed," and watched the journal pages go blank. He returned Hufflepuff's journal to its rightful place on the shelf, put the quill back in the desk drawer, took one more look around to make sure he and Hermione had left no signs of their visit, and finally satisfied, left quickly and quietly from the office.

Harry entered the common room and found Hermione pacing its center, while Ron sat at a desk, rubbing the tension from his neck.

"Well, how'd it go?" she asked.

"See for yourself," he said as he handed her the journal and she went to join Ron at the desk and revealed its pages once more.

They read quietly and Ron finally said, "You got all of that from a diary?"

"Pretty much," replied Harry. "The greenhouses weren't numbered back then, but based on the descriptions in her journal, I'm pretty sure they refer to three and four. The tree was definitely a spot for a number of their heart-to-heart talks."

"What's the treasured gift?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know," answered Harry. "She mentioned it three times, but never named it. I got the impression it was something he'd made and given to her years earlier."

"And the other possibilities?" inquired Ron.

"Well the kitchens, their design and the magic which allows meals to appear from below all came from Hufflepuff," began Harry.

"And Hufflepuff loved her childhood home in Wales. She visited it often, and Slytherin appears to have accompanied her at least once. She also mentioned walking among the grounds of his family's estate during the earlier entries of her journal. We know that line lost everything over the years, so whatever is left of it would most certainly be in ruins," explained Harry.

"Do you know exactly where they are located?" asked Ron.

"No, we're definitely going to need Professor Sprout's input, and probably Professor Slughorn's as well, provided he returns," said Harry.

"Okay, leave that to me," said Hermione.

"How'd you make out in Flitwick's office?" asked Harry.

"Not as well as you, I'm afraid," replied Hermione. "Well, it wasn't a waste of time or anything. It's just that there's a lot more to pick through. Like Dumbledore and Sprout, Flitwick's quarters definitely contain items that belonged to Ravenclaw."

"But there was no sign that said 'Follow this road to the Horcrux,'" joked Ron.

"I'm not surprised," said Harry.

"Rowena Ravenclaw was frighteningly brilliant," said Hermione.

"Like someone we know," said Ron as he and Harry both looked at her with raised eyebrows.

She blushed ever so slightly before saying, "Come on, be serious. Sure, I'm a bookworm and I love school and puzzles and what have you, but Ravenclaw was in a class all her own."

"We're still failing to see the distinction," continued Ron.

"She came up with the castle's ever-changing floor plans, for crying out loud," said Hermione. "There was absolutely nothing at which she didn't excel. Ravenclaw was an expert at Arithmancy and Ancient Runes by the time she was twelve years old. Trust me, she left her mark all over this school."

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing we've got the cleverest witch of our age researching the cleverest witch from the past," said Harry, sincerely. "I know it's a lot, but if anyone can make sense out of all of it, it's you."

"Thanks, I think," she said in jest.

"Come on, I'll help you weed through the items you noted and we can try putting them in order from most to least likely. Then you can work your magic on Flitwick after term starts and we'll go from there," suggested Harry.

"Yeah, Hermione," said Ron encouragingly. "I bet once you talk to Flitwick, you'll definitely be able to narrow down your list even more."

"Okay," she finally said and she and Harry sat on the sofa to begin, while Ron continued his efforts at the desk.

They'd been at it for nearly four weeks and although they'd made significant progress, they knew they still had a long way to go.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Across the miles, Slytherin's sole heir was in a most foul mood. He had been increasingly so ever since they'd confirmed that Hogwarts would indeed reopen. Draco and Narcissa had born the brunt of his anger on that particularly unpleasant day, and were both still lying prone and recovering from their injuries. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing that had set off his latest tirade and fits of destruction.

Bellatrix, Snape, Pettigrew, Baldwin and about a half dozen neophytes were scattered around the room. Each had been hoping not to incur Voldemort's wrath. Alas, Baldwin was not to be so fortunate this time.

"What do you mean, there's no sign of them," raved Voldemort.

"My Lord, we've scouted out Ottery St. Catchpole, Surrey and a half dozen outlying counties, in addition to rolling surveillance teams throughout central London. Each team has come up empty handed. There is no sign of him or his Order guards," said Baldwin calmly.

"Potter has not simply vanished," hissed Voldemort. "I expected more from you, Baldwin."

"It grieves me to have disappointed you, Master," said Baldwin.

"Apparently not enough," he replied angrily.

The next thing anyone knew, Baldwin was knocked backwards across the room and slammed into the wall. The impact of his head against to the stone echoed throughout the parlor. He was dazed, but amazingly, still standing.

Voldemort looked at Baldwin with disdain and turned to Peter Pettigrew.

"Wormtail, I want you to get inside the Weasley home. Transform yourself and do what you do best. I do not care if it takes you days to gnaw your way through. DO IT!" he bellowed.

"Yes, Master, right away," said Pettigrew, with his greedy eyes glistening at the chance to be able to please the Dark Lord.

"My Lord," began Bellatrix from her perch against the fireplace, "shall we move forward with our other plan?" she asked.

"Yes, Bella," answered Voldemort. "Unfortunately, you will have to rely on the untested talents of our newer members. I am entrusting you to make sure they are ready. I want you with them, so plan your disguise carefully."

"Do not worry, Master. I promise you, my own mother would not recognize me," she said excitedly.

"Very well," he said irritably and turned once again to the still dazed Baldwin.

"You," he said menacingly, "may accompany Bella and the others. Perhaps you will learn something."

"As you wish, My Lord," said Baldwin, wiping at the blood dripping down the back of his neck.

"Now, get out of my sight, all of you," he barked. "Severus, not you. We have other things to discuss."

Bella and Pettigrew both lost their looks of temporary triumph when they realized Snape had bested them once again. They left, wondering like everyone else, what Snape and Voldemort could possibly be planning.


	14. Chapter 14: Unlike Any Other

By Sunday evening, the trio was both exhausted and anxious. There was no point in trying to figure out anything else. They simply could not concentrate.

They'd just come from another meeting with Moody and learned that guards had been stationed near Hermione's home and at her parents' dental practice and that Ron's family had moved into Order headquarters at Grimmauld Place shortly after their last briefing. The Order was taking no unnecessary chances.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George and Ginny, fresh from her trip to France, were already in residence. Fred and George had three Order guards masquerading as staff at their joke shop. Mr. Weasley had protection to and from work at the Ministry, as well. Bill and Fleur would join them later; they had opted to spend time with Fleur's parents in France before returning. And Charlie, when not on long distance Order assignments, would be there, too.

Percy, of course, had proven to be uncooperative. While he couldn't be trusted with the location of Order headquarters, he had been offered other shelter and protection. He'd refused all of it. Mr. Weasley and Kingsley had argued every rational point to convince him otherwise, but Percy was more obstinate than ever. He went so far as to point out that he hadn't considered himself a Weasley in some years and that You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters would be foolish to think otherwise. Mr. Weasley had been deeply hurt by this and Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with worry. Ginny had made one last attempt to get through to him, but her pleas also fell on deaf ears. The siblings were simultaneously furious and frightened for their idiotic brother.

And now, sitting restlessly with his friends in the common room and going over everything in his head, Harry had begun to feel responsible for the Weasley family riff. As silly as it sounded, he'd convinced himself that Ron and his family would have been better off if they had never become friends. He glanced across at Ron, who met his gaze, and it seemed, read his thoughts.

"Don't even go there, Harry," he said firmly. "This isn't even remotely about you. Percy's been a prat since the day he was born. He always thought he was better than the rest of us, and he was always going to find some excuse to distance himself."

"Even if that's true, you can't deny you are all potential targets because of me, can you?" said Harry.

"Harry, Voldemort's killed countless people, and I'm quite certain, most of them had absolutely no connection to you," interjected Hermione. "He was a danger to everyone for decades, and he is again, now."

"I know you're right, but it doesn't stop me from worrying," replied Harry.

"Worry all you want, just stop blaming yourself," ordered Ron. "You're not responsible for Voldemort or anything he does."

What could have been an awkward silence was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Dobby, levitating a large pile of books beside him.

"Good evening, Harry Potter, sir. Good evening, miss and sir," he said in greeting.

"Hi Dobby," they said together.

"Headmistress asked that I bring your school books to you. They arrived days ago, but Headmistress was busy and forgot about them," explained the house-elf as he magically set the books down on a nearby table.

"Thanks, Dobby," said Hermione.

"Miss is most welcome. I have to go now. House-elves are very busy getting ready for tomorrow. Bye," he said and as always, vanished as quickly as he'd appeared.

"Oh no," said Hermione. "I can't believe we didn't even think to open our Hogwarts letters. How could I have forgotten?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Ron sarcastically. "Maybe because we just spent a whole month looking through dusty and moldy old books. Why in the world would we want to worry about new ones?"

Hermione gave him a withering look and summoned her letter from upstairs. She ripped it open and dumped out the sheets of paper and read through them quickly. Frowning, she turned the envelope upside down and shook it.

Ron howled with laughter.

"Oh, now I get it," he said teasingly. "Harry, she's looking for the Head Girl badge."

"Shut up, Ronald," she said. "Where are your letters?"

Before either of them could answer, she'd summoned both of theirs, as well.

"You don't need mine," said Harry.

Hermione wasn't listening. She tore open both envelopes anyway and found them as empty of badges as her own. She looked totally perplexed.

"I suppose McGonagall could have chosen someone from Ravenclaw or even Hufflepuff," she said, sounding completely unconvinced.

Ron, trying very hard not to roll out of his seat with laughter, said, "Hermione, does it really matter? We're still Prefects and we've got more than enough to do, don't you think?"

She was quiet for several seconds before saying, "Yes, of course, you're right."

Hermione made a big production of tossing the letters carelessly aside, but Harry and Ron knew she was disappointed, nonetheless.

Bouts of disappointment and amusement gave way to worry once more as the night wore on. There was a lot at stake tomorrow. When there was nothing left to say or do, they reluctantly rose and went upstairs to bed.

Harry awoke from an uneasy sleep in the middle of the night when he felt something soft brush his forehead. He opened his eyes to a blurred sheet of long red hair illuminated by wand light. Ginny was leaning over him.

"Ginny," he said quietly as he sat up, "when did you get here?"

"Hi, Harry," she whispered back. "I just arrived a little while ago. I went straight to Hermione's room and she said you and Ron had been really worried."

"Yeah, we all were. I'm glad you got here safely."

"Thanks. I tried to wake Sleeping Beauty over there but he wouldn't budge," she said, pointing at Ron in the next bed.

Harry laughed softly and said, "I'll wake him in the morning and let him know you got here. How was your holiday with the Delacours?"

"It was wonderful," said Ginny on a small yawn. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning. Go back to sleep."

"Okay. Good night, Ginny," he said and watched her leave the dormitory.

Harry felt as though a huge weight had been lifted. There was much more to worry about, but at least Ginny was safe for now, and that meant more to him than he could possibly express.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On the morning of September 1st, the sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky. Harry silently hoped it was a good sign. He, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were enjoying a leisurely breakfast in the common room. It would be late afternoon or early evening before the other students began arriving. Ron had peered from a tower window earlier and seen Professors Sinistra and Trelawney already on the grounds.

Moody was around somewhere, but they hadn't spotted him; however, McGonagall had stopped by to check on them. She'd been extremely tense and strongly suggested they stay in Gryffindor Tower until later today. Not wishing to add to her anxieties, they readily complied with her wishes.

Ginny spent hours telling them all about her holiday in France. She'd had a wonderful time and looked relaxed and happy. Hermione had visited France with her parents some years earlier, and she and Ginny relished the opportunity to compare and share their experiences. Harry and Ron were happy just to witness their excitement.

Dobby delivered a light lunch mid afternoon and was in and out of the common room faster than they'd ever witnessed. He returned again shortly after four o'clock and seemed to be in an agitated state. Apparently, everyone in the castle knew how precarious today could turn out to be.

"Good afternoon, Harry Potter, sir, misses and sir," he began. "Dobby is to tell you that Headmistress will send word when you may come down to the Great Hall."

"Have students started arriving?" asked Hermione.

"Not yet, miss. The professors are all in the entrance hall and Dobby heard Headmistress telling Professor Flitwick the train was due into Hogsmeade at any moment," said Dobby, with his eyes wide with concern.

"Okay, thanks Dobby," said Harry and waved as the house-elf made his usual exit.

They sat in relative silence for close to an hour, each imaging all sorts of things.

"Well, we should probably change into our robes, don't you think," interjected Ginny into the silence as she got to her feet.

Harry, Ron and Hermione each nodded and followed Ginny towards the staircases.

They were robed and walking nervously around the common room when Moody's head suddenly appeared in the fireplace. It was nearly six o'clock.

"You four can come downstairs, now," he said, sounding and looking tired, with his face otherwise unreadable.

"Did everything go okay?" asked Harry.

"The students are here. We can discuss the rest later," he replied and his head disappeared from sight.

The four made their way hurriedly down the marble staircase and skidded to a halt just inside the Great Hall. The house tables were once more assembled across the room, with the still empty staff table at the top. Practically every student was engaged in lively and whispered conversations, so much so, that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were able to make their way across the hall to the Gryffindor table relatively unnoticed.

Neville, on the look out for them, waved them over to the seats he'd been saving for them.

"There you are. We were wondering what happened to you," he said, peering over his shoulder to Luna at the Ravenclaw table.

They waved at her as they took their seats and turned their attention back to Neville and the rest of the Gryffindor table. Seamus and Dean were seated further down the table, opposite Lavender Brown. The Creevey brothers were present and Colin was so engrossed in conversation with a fellow sixth-year, he hadn't yet noticed Harry.

"How are you, Neville?" asked Harry.

"I'm fine," replied Neville and he colored slightly before continuing. "Umh, Harry, thanks a lot for the birthday gift. It's incredible. I would've sent a note back with Hedwig, but she took off before I'd even opened the package."

"A note wasn't necessary," said Harry. "I'm just glad you like it."

"I really do," added Neville. "It's the best mortar and pestle set I've ever seen. And Gram nearly lost her head with excitement when I told her it was from you. She didn't want me to bring it back to school because she thinks I'll lose it or break it; but I insisted and I can't wait to start using it tomorrow."

"Well, I got it for you and not your grandmother, so you should be using it. Besides, I don't think you could possibly break it, Neville," replied Harry.

Harry looked across the table at Ginny to find her smiling softly and nodding at him. Hermione, seated next to him, squeezed his hand under the table and Ron, seated on Ginny's other side, gave him a discreet thumbs-up. They too, hadn't known Harry sent anything to Neville, but they were each pleased that he'd made such a gesture to their mutual and often time, overlooked friend.

"Where's Parvati?" asked Hermione, both in effort to change the subject and out of concern as she scanned the table for her dormitory mates.

"She and Padma aren't coming back," said Neville. "We didn't see either of them on the train, so we thought their parents might be bringing them. Seamus and Lavender weren't on the train either, but they were waiting with their parents in Hogsmeade when we arrived. Anyway, that's when we heard from Lavender that Mr. and Mrs. Patil had refused to allow either of their daughters to return. It turns out Padma didn't really want to come back, but Lavender said Parvati was really upset."

"Wow," said Ron. "Are there a lot of students not returning?"

"Not as many as we first thought. Luna, Seamus, Lavender, Dean and I were on the first Knight Bus transport, and a lot more have shown up since I first arrived. So, you all came to Hogsmeade with Ron and Ginny's parents, then?" asked Neville.

"Umh, yeah," fibbed Ginny. "Hey, is it just me or does anyone else think the Slytherin table looks oddly empty?" she asked as she glanced over her shoulder and across the room.

Harry looked over and saw what Ginny meant. He didn't know every Slytherin student by name, but even he could point out some noticeable absences. Obviously, no one was expecting to see Malfoy; but Crabbe, Goyle and Nott were missing, along with at least two or three fifth and sixth-years.

"That's weird," said Ron. "If any Hogwarts students wouldn't be afraid to return, you think it'd be the Slytherins."

Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson were back and they looked most unhappy. They were sharing their own whispered conversation when Pansy looked up and spotted Harry. Her face took on a more sour expression than usual, causing Blaise to glance up, as well. They both glared at Harry with open hostility, but Harry couldn't have cared any less about either one of them. Just to annoy them even more, Harry winked at them before returning his attention to his friends.

"Neville, how was the train ride?" asked Harry.

"It was strange," said Neville. "Platform 9 and ¾ was crawling with Aurors. Even Minister Scrimgeour was there. Once we got through the barrier, there was a new, second one erected before you could get near the train. Parents could go no further than through the first barrier. The Aurors searched each of us and our luggage before letting us on the train."

"Wow," said Ron. "I guess that explains all the serious conversations going on in here."

"And we could only board the train through one door. We had to fill up one car at a time and then an Auror closed it, conjured a chair, and sat guard outside each car for the entire ride. We couldn't leave our cars for anything except the bathroom, and another Auror would escort you down the corridors."

Harry was impressed with the described security tactics. Moody, Lupin, and Kingsley and the Ministry had planned well. He had to grudgingly admit, he was also surprised to hear Scrimgeour had actually been present. He really was a far sight better than Fudge, but Harry still wasn't interested in playing poster-boy for the Ministry.

"Did you go through the same thing when you pulled into Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione.

"Well, Luna and I were in the first car and the Auror outside our car signaled us to get up; but then there was a loud noise and a whole lot of running footsteps on the platform. Our Auror was standing with his wand drawn and his back tight against our car door, so we couldn't see past him to the corridor window."

"Did you hear anything else?" asked Ginny.

"No, not really. We ended up waiting over half an hour before the Auror opened our car door and escorted us out. Other Aurors were waiting to march us from the platform to the waiting Knight Bus. There were about six Aurors on our bus transport. I'm glad it was such a short trip, because the Aurors didn't look too happy," explained Neville.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione exchanged furtive glances. They remembered Moody's brief appearance in the common room fireplace. Had something happened?

"And Harry, this conductor, Stan something or other, asked about you," added Neville.

"Really, Stan Shunpike?" said Harry.

"Yeah, that's it. He said he knew you."

"We've met," said Harry.

So, the Ministry had finally come around and faced what he, Dumbledore and others had known all along, Stan was in no way connected to Voldemort or his Death Eaters. How much time had he lost locked away in Azkaban?

Before they could think of anything else to ask Neville, a noise on the far side of the room drew everyone's attention. The door to an antechamber opened and in filed the teachers, tiny Professor Flitwick leading the way, followed by Professors Sprout, Vector, Sinistra, Slughorn and Hagrid. From their spot at the Gryffindor table, they could not see the others teachers who were following in Hagrid's wake.

Harry was about to stand for a better look when the double oak doors opened to reveal Professor McGonagall, ready to escort the first years into the Great Hall. So, she had decided to keep that responsibility. The headmistress waited until all the teachers were seated and then walked forward with two lines of first-years trailing nervously behind her.

"I'm not kidding, they really do get smaller and smaller every year," said Ron.

"No, you just keep getting bigger and bigger," said Ginny smartly.

There had always been about forty or fifty first-years at the start of each term, but not this time. Harry counted twenty-eight new students. When Professor McGonagall had lined them up, she conjured a stool and placed it front and center. With a wave of her wand, the Sorting Hat appeared in her open palm and she set it atop the stool. The first-years looked even more frightened, but the rest of the students and teachers were focused on the hat and were rewarded when it twitched and its mouth formed from a tear at its center and it began to sing:

"_The axis tilts and darkness looms_

_Larger than ever before;_

_Founders' souls weep for what_

_May be lost forever more._

_Discard the petty, the unimportant_

_And all that is mundane;_

_For surely only camaraderie will_

_Help keep you sane._

_Roar loud and strong, brave Gryffindors,_

_Hold fast and true, dutiful Hufflepuffs,_

_Reason well and keenly, brilliant Ravenclaws,_

_And choose wisely and rightly, sly Slytherins;_

_For only united can the good really win._

_A beacon of hope dwells within us all, likely_

_To shine brightest when all seems lost;_

_Sadly, such destiny is not without great cost._

To restore balance and order to our 

_World and return to ashes an evil_

_That should never have been,_

_One will have to search and find_

_The true source of power within._

_When strength and hope appear to have waned_

_The heart will seek what must be attained,_

_Heed well always to these words_

_And remember to look heavenwards._

_I am the Hogwarts' Sorting Hat_

_With greetings from he who upon the_

_Scarlet throne, last sat!"_

There wasn't one single clap at the conclusion of this year's song. The entire room was stunned silent. The Sorting Hat had given them a warning before, but never anything as dark as this one.

A number of students, especially the younger ones, seemed afraid. Others just looked confused as they struggled to unravel some of the odd lyrics still fresh in their minds.

Harry's eyes, and those of many others, had turned to Dumbledore's scarlet and gold chair, which still sat empty at the center of the teachers' table. A length of black fabric was laid across its high back. Apparently, McGonagall had no intention of sitting in it, quite yet.

Had part of this year's message really come from Dumbledore? They couldn't believe it. Even McGonagall was staring at the ornate chair as if she expected Dumbledore to materialize and sit in it once more. When nothing more happened, she cleared her throat, picked up the Sorting Hat and asked the first student to step forward and sit on the well-worn stool.

Harry couldn't tell you where the first several students were sorted because he simply wasn't paying attention. He was too busy trying to remember the lyrics to this year's song. As depressing as it had been, he felt driven to memorize it, if for no other reason than out of respect for the man and wizard he had admired most in the world.

He was finally alert enough to hear Romulus Burns sorted into Ravenclaw. Ron had sat up straighter to get a better look at the first-year. He'd been so intent on his ever growing list for so long, that the initials must have popped out at him.

Hermione laughed among the applause and whispered across at Ron, "Don't worry, I think he's a bit too young to make the cut."

When it was all said and done, there were five new Slytherins, seven Hufflepuffs, and eight Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

Professor McGonagall took the podium and addressed them.

"Welcome," she said. "Before we start this year's feast, there are a number of announcements that must be made. Unless you have been living under a rock, you are all well aware that the darkest wizard of all time is back among us and intent on inflicting incalculable harm and damage. He has already wounded this school more deeply than I can say," she added with a glance over her shoulder at Dumbledore's chair.

"It took a tremendous effort to have this school reopened following last year's attack. You are here because we are determined to provide the best possible magical education to those who seek it. Your parents allowed you to be here because they believe in that education and because they believe you are safer here than you would be at home."

Professor McGonagall paused to make sure she had all their attention.

"To that end, we will be adhering to even stricter security measures than ever before. There will be no day trips to Hogsmeade. Students must be in their houses by half past eight every night. And regrettably, I have decided that it is in the best interest of everyone's safety to cancel Quidditch season this year."

There were sighs and moans from all over the hall. Harry was a bit disappointed, but not surprised. He already knew he wouldn't be wearing his Quidditch robes this year. McGonagall waited for the protests to die down.

"Make no mistake, this is going to be a year unlike any we have ever had. I am sure you've noticed that some of your former classmates are missing. In most cases, that was a decision reached by them or their parents. For some others however, that decision was made for them by myself and the school governors, and upheld by the Ministry."

Looks of shock and confusion met McGonagall's beady stare.

"Students whose immediate family members have known ties to the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were not invited to return," she said clearly.

McGonagall was looking straight ahead as she spoke, but every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff student looked over at the Slytherin table. Up at the teachers' table, Professor Slughorn had colored noticeably and reached for his goblet of water.

Well, that explained why Malfoy's little gang was missing. Harry silently wished they'd done that last year. Maybe Dumbledore would still be with them.

"Pay close attention, for I am only going to say this once," continued McGonagall. "If we discover any remaining students in direct support of, or collaboration with any know Dark wizards, you will not only face immediate expulsion from Hogwarts, but you will face imprisonment at the hands of the Ministry. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Headmistress," came hundreds of mingled voices.

"Very well. That concludes this evening's unpleasant business, so let us move on," she began and smiled ever so slightly.

"You should note that we will still be awarding the house cup at the end of term, so please do all you can to earn points for your respective houses. As much of the room can probably see, we have two new teachers with us this year. Please join me in welcoming them."

"Taking over my former duties in Transfiguration, please welcome Professor Nymphadora Tonks," said McGonagall.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked blankly at each other for a long moment and then broke out into applause along with the other students. Tonks rose from her hidden seat beside Hagrid. She was still sporting the strawberry blond hair color, although she'd opted for a shorter, modestly spiked and moussed hairdo. She smiled and waved out at the students. Her eyes took in the Gryffindor table and she winked furtively at the foursome before sitting back down.

"And last, but not least, please say hello to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Jillian Grayson."

If they were shocked to see Tonks, it was nothing compared to the jolt they received when Kingsley's sister stood, bowed and waved to the assembled students. They clapped automatically with the others, but each of the four friends looked thunderstruck. They were obviously shocked to learn she'd be their teacher, but why in the world was she using a different last name.

Tonks sat forward in her seat and caught Ginny's eye, who kicked each of the trio under the table to get their attention. She whispered "Tonks," under the applause and they saw Tonks discreetly place her finger against her lips to note they should remain silent for the time being. Fortunately, their odd expressions had gone pretty well unnoticed because most of the students, the boys in particular, were too busy admiring their attractive new teachers.

McGonagall faced forward once more.

"And finally, as I know you are all starving, I'd like to take a short moment to announce this year's Head Girl and Head Boy. These are students who have contributed a great deal to the school over the last six years and I expect nothing less from them this year. They will be reporting directly to me, and the other Prefects will be under their direction. Please congratulate Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Harry Potter."

The Gryffindor table erupted into a very long and loud round of applause and cheers. Nearly Headless Nick, who'd been at the opposite end near the first-years, rose in mid air and began turning excited spirals. Their fellow housemates were giving them a standing ovation, no one louder than Ron. Many of the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and teachers had joined in. Hagrid was smiling brightly behind his bushy beard. The younger Slytherins were also applauding politely, but not a single one of the sixth or remaining seventh-years. In fact, Pansy looked like she wag going to start crying at any moment and Blaise simply looked ill.

Harry had encountered a great number of surprising things over the last few months, and this one ranked right up there. How could he have possibly been made Head Boy? He'd never even been Prefect. Then again, neither had his father and Hagrid had told him years ago that both his parents had been Head Boy and Girl.

He looked at Hermione sitting beside him with tears of relief swimming in her eyes. Ron, Ginny and Neville were beaming at them from across the table. Luna was standing up on the bench at her seat at the Ravenclaw table.

When the noise died down to a dull roar, McGonagall broke in again.

"Let the feast begin," she said and platters and tureens of every food imaginable appeared on each table.

Harry had only eaten once serving. He was still trying to process everything swimming through his head. He looked up and caught Ron smirking at him.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing. I'm just glad for both of you," said Ron earnestly. "We knew Hermione was a shoe in, but I was pulling for you."

"Why? It never even occurred to me as a possibility," said Harry.

"That's exactly why," said Ron. "Come on, who else could it have been?"

"It could have been you," said Harry simply.

"Yeah, it could have been; but it should have been you," said Ron. "Honestly, everyone was stunned when you didn't make Prefect for our year. There was no way they were not going to pick you for Head Boy."

That conversation ended as students began coming over to congratulate him and Hermione. Luna was one of the first to make her way over.

"Hi, everyone," she said in greeting. "Congratulations. They chose well this year."

"Thanks, Luna," said Harry. "How were your holidays?"

"Oh, wonderful. I was traveling on assignment with my father," she said.

"And what wonderful new creature have we uncovered this year?" joked Ron, but Luna answered sincerely.

"I can't possibly tell you that, yet," she said. "You'll just have to wait and read about in the November issue. I'll go preorder you a copy, now," she said happily as she floated away from them.

Ron looked like he was still trying to work out what had just happened. Ginny and Hermione giggled and Harry hid a laugh behind his glass of pumpkin juice.

When everyone was stuffed and sleepy, McGonagall rose from her seat and directed the Prefects to start escorting the other students to their houses. Ron and Hermione rose to help shepherd the first and second-years. Harry got up to follow behind them, but McGonagall called for him and Hermione to remain behind.

"We'll see you in a bit," he said to Ron, Ginny and Neville as they got in line to exit the Great Hall. The other teachers had exited through the antechamber door, as well.

McGonagall made her way over to them and when the last student had exited, she closed the heavy oak doors with a flick from her wand and sat across from them.

"Well now, we've certainly had an exciting day," she began. "I know you have lots of questions, but you are going to have to be satisfied with the short version of today's activities, because quite frankly, I am exhausted and so are the others."

"Yes, Professor," they replied.

"First, there was an incident in Hogsmeade, near the train station. I am told about a half dozen or so Death Eaters managed to get within a few blocks of the station. They were apparently newer members, and so, weren't immediately identified. Aurors and Order members were on hand and handled the situation. Two Death Eaters were captured and one was killed. The others scattered and escaped. We sustained some injuries, including one Auror who was severely wounded." explained McGonagall.

"Are Lupin and the others all right?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Potter, they are," she said. "And now, let me congratulate you both again. I cannot think of more deserving students," she added.

"Thank you," they replied.

"We can discuss details sometime tomorrow. For now, please know that each Prefect is under your direct supervision. You are the only students for whom curfew does not apply. I assume that should prove helpful for whatever extracurricular projects you currently have going," she added with a raised brow.

"Yes, it definitely will," said Hermione.

"Good, now here are your badges," she said, and pulled two silver pins from her robes and handed one to each of them.

"Well, I am going to retire. Please make sure you check the corridors on your way upstairs. We shall talk more tomorrow. Good night."

"Good night, Headmistress," they replied.


	15. Chapter 15: Scheduled Assistance

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: SCHEDULED ASSISTANCE

On the first day of classes, Harry walked downstairs to the common room and found Hermione already waiting for him.

"Oh good," she said. "I was hoping you'd be down soon. I wanted to get to the Great Hall early so we can talk to McGonagall."

"Good morning to you, too," said Harry in mock affront and then grinned at his friend.

"Sorry," she said, coloring a bit. "I've just got all these ideas running around in my head and I wanted to run some of them by McGonagall, and you too, of course."

"Why am I not surprised," he said. "Come on; let's get downstairs before you burst with excitement. Ron can meet us later."

"Right," she said laughing and stopped as she looked more closely at him. "Harry, where's your badge?"

"It's right here," he said, moving his hand from the shoulder strap of his bag, and revealing the spot where he'd pinned it along the length of the strap."

"Harry, you're supposed to wear it on your robes," said Hermione.

"Says who? It's not like there's a manual or something," he said lightly.

"We'll see," she commented as they made their way to the Great Hall.

When they entered, the hall was relatively empty. There were a handful of first-years who, judging by their expressions, had been too nervous to sleep. McGonagall was already at the staff table, going over a stack of class schedules. She looked up as Harry and Hermione made their way to the Gryffindor table and inclined her head in silent greeting.

To their surprise, Ron joined them minutes later and plopped down beside Hermione, still looking a bit sleepy.

"We weren't expecting you to be down this soon," said Hermione.

"I couldn't let you two have all the fun without me," he said through a yawn as he reached for a coffee carafe and glanced up. "It looks like McGonagall is headed our way."

She had been stopped by a lone Hufflepuff and after satisfying his inquiry, she did indeed make her way over to them.

"Good morning, Headmistress," they said.

"Good morning. I'm glad to see you three up and about this early. I suspect we have some time before all the others start wandering in at the smell of breakfast, so if you have any questions, now's the time," she added as she took a seat next to Harry.

Harry knew Hermione wanted to talk about Head and Prefect duty, but there were other questions that needed to be answered.

"Professor," he said quietly, "can you tell us about Tonks and Jillian?"

McGonagall pulled her wand and cast "_Muffliato_," to ensure that no one walking nearby them would overhear anything.

"Professor Tonks," began McGonagall, with a slight twitch of her thin lips, "as you know, has a natural knack for Transfiguration. That, combined with her other skill sets made her a perfect fit for our current needs."

Harry, Ron and Hermione understood. Tonks could definitely teach Transfiguration, but more importantly, her appointment meant another Order member would be on premise.

"And may we ask why Jillian is going by Professor Grayson?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, well, we didn't want to draw any more attention to another Shacklebolt. It's not a very common sir name and their father is well known."

"We know, Jillian told us their story the night we met her," said Ron.

"Then you understand it would be better not to make that connection too obvious. Kingsley has been an Auror for years and the Death Eaters know he's part of the Order. However, very few people in Britain even know he has a sister, and certainly, even fewer know she is currently here."

"Because it would not only draw Voldemort's attention since he knew their father," interrupted Harry, "but it would also give them more information regarding what kind of added security is in the castle."

"Very good, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall. "Ministry Aurors were to be expected, and you will see a number of them in the corridors and on the grounds beginning today. Some of them are also Order members. While we've tried to diminish as many potential direct leaks, we obviously can't stop students from telling their friends and families about their new teachers and new security measures."

"Then they'll know Tonks is here, won't they?" asked Hermione.

"Eventually, yes," replied McGonagall. "But like Kingsley, they already know who she is and what she does. However, they are likely to underestimate Nymphadora; a lot of people have made that mistake. As for Jillian, it would be best if we could keep her presence secret. In an effort to do so, she is currently using her mother's maiden name."

"She's an Auror, also, isn't she?" asked Harry.

"Yes, she is a rather high ranking one as I understand it and a tremendously gifted witch as well," said McGonagall quickly.

"Can you tell us any more about the Death Eaters that were in Hogsmeade yesterday?" added Harry with a quick look at his watch. The others were starting to slowly trickle into the Great Hall.

"Not very much," answered McGonagall. "I haven't spoken to Alastor this morning. He'll be leaving sometime tomorrow, so you should expect to be called for a briefing before then. He can fill us all in on what transpired."

Harry nodded.

"As for your duties as Head Boy and Girl, and Prefect," she added with a nod to Ron, "I'm counting on you to help keep an eye on the school. You have been spotting trouble since your first year – or maybe it's been spotting you; in any case, keep your eyes open while you are prowling around with whatever else you are doing. Sound the alarm if you find anything suspicious. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Professor," they answered.

"Good. Now then, here are your class schedules," she said and handed one to each of them.

They had the same classes as last year, but Harry noticed the schedule looked different.

"Wow, we've got doubles of almost every class," he said.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron. "I see double Potions twice a week like always, but…"

"Your schedule is altered, Potter," said McGonagall from beside him. "It's been customized according to Dumbledore's instructions. You will share your usual classes with your peers, but you also have private lessons scheduled."

Hermione and Ron looked across the table and attempted to read Harry's schedule upside down. He turned it towards them and looked at McGonagall.

"No, he did not leave any indications as to why," she answered before Harry had even asked the question. "Since the first-year class is nearly half its usual size, the four houses will be taught together. That will allow staff to accommodate your schedule.

Other Gryffindors had taken seats at the far ends of the table, and McGonagall took that as a cue to end their little meeting. She undid the Muffliato spell and rose from the table.

"You three should eat and get ready for your first class," she said.

She turned to leave but stopped when she noticed Harry's bag. Her eyes had gone to his Head Boy badge, still pinned to the strap. Great, Hermione had been right, and McGonagall was going to make him pin it to his robes.

But instead she smiled, looked at him and said, "Like father, like son, Potter."

Harry's startled look told her he didn't know what she was talking about.

"I am sorry," she said. "When I saw your badge, I just assumed you knew. You see, James also kept his badge pinned anywhere except his robes; his favorites spots, if I remember correctly, were his book bag and his house scarf."

Harry smiled inwardly to himself.

"Cool," said Ron.

"Uncanny, certainly, Mr. Weasley. Good day to you all," she added as she left them and returned to the staff table.

Harry and Ron had begun to pile food on their plates, while Hermione kept looking over Harry's schedule.

"This is incredible," she finally said and returned his schedule to him. "Dumbledore has arranged for you to take double Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration. We've all got double Potions, but you have a separate lesson with Slughorn, as well."

"What's Independent Study?" asked Ron. "Is it library time or something?"

"I don't think so, Ron," said Hermione. We can go to the library during any free period. They wouldn't have labeled it."

"Well, I certainly have no idea what it could be, then," said Harry. "Anyway, it's Tuesday, so I guess I'll find out later today."

"Harry, what about your Potions book?" asked Ron. We're using the same one from last year. Isn't it still you-know-where?"

"Yeah, it is," answered Harry darkly. "I'd just as soon leave it there and order a new one, but Moody said something that made a lot of sense. He said it was important to know as much about your enemy as possible. The Ministry and Order are looking for Snape; but you know he is most likely in hiding somewhere with Voldemort, so I might as well find out as much as possible about him because our paths will cross again, sooner or later."

"Harry," said Hermione, "you promised Lupin you wouldn't go looking for Snape."

"I know, and I'm not going to go looking for him. I just know he is going to show his face again, and when he does, I plan to be ready," answered Harry flatly.

With that, Harry popped the last of his toast in his mouth and looked closely at his schedule again.

He had double Potions this morning, followed by a mid morning free period and then double Defense, with lunch at one o'clock and Independent Study at two o'clock. The same schedule was set for Thursdays.

On Mondays and Wednesdays, he had double Transfiguration, double Charms and finished with Herbology.

Fridays were an odd mix of Transfiguration, Defense, Herbology, an extra Potions session and a third Independent Study.

"Harry, put yours away. Everyone else is headed in for breakfast," said Hermione.

Harry folded his schedule and slipped it in his bag just as Neville, Seamus and Dean took seats alongside them. Lavender was seated nearer Ginny, who had sat with Colin Creevey and a few other sixth-years.

"We've got Divinations with Firenze, first," said Dean Thomas. "What about you guys?"

"Potions," said Ron. "Hey, Seamus, I never got to ask you last night, how'd you convince your mother to let you come back?"

"We argued about it all summer long," said Seamus. "She finally gave in though, with a little pressure from my grandmother. I have to send her a letter twice a week or she swears she'll come pull me out of here by me ears."

"Harry," called Luna from just over his shoulder. She had walked up behind him so quietly that she nearly startled him.

"Hi Luna, what's up."

"Did Neville ask you?" she inquired.

"Did Neville ask me what?" Harry said, looking between Luna and Neville.

"We wanted to ask you what you thought about starting up D.A. lessons again," said Neville quietly. "We didn't do it last year and well, with everything that happened, it seemed like a good idea to ask again. A lot of people are still interested."

Harry looked around and saw a number of students staring in their direction. Luna was apparently the designated messenger for the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. Ron was nodding discreetly and Harry could see the wheels turning behind Hermione's eyes. They'd thought the school impenetrable last year and it hadn't been. Even with the current added security, it wouldn't hurt to make sure students were as prepared as possible, especially the older ones.

"I'll tell you what," he began. "Let's get through a couple of weeks of classes first and then we can try to carve out an hour or two each week. How's that sound?"

"Great," said Dean and Seamus for the group.

The morning bell rang and Luna ran off to grab her bag and to spread the word to the others who'd inquired. They had ten minutes to get to class and everyone else began scrambling up and out of the hall.

"I won't have time to retrieve that Potions book until later today," said Harry as they made their way down the marble staircase to the Potions room. "Can I share one of yours?"

"Sure," said Ron.

When they entered, they found the same three tables set up as last year. Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff was already seated at the table he'd previously shared with the trio. He greeted them excitedly when they approached.

"Hello, Gryffindors," he said. "I'm glad to see you three returning. And congratulation to you on being chosen Head Boy and Head Girl," he said to Harry and Hermione. "I can't deny I was kind of hoping for the honor myself, but I'm big enough to admit the better man won out. Wouldn't you agree, Ron?"

"Oh, definitely," said Ron with a look that conveyed he'd have run screaming from the castle had Macmillan somehow been selected as Head Boy.

The four Ravenclaws were huddled at their nearby table and nodded hello. At the farthest table sat the remaining three Slytherins, including Zabini. Blaise didn't scowl at the trio today; instead, he chose to act as if he hadn't noticed them enter the room.

As the final bell rang, Professor Slughorn walked slowly into the room. They hadn't paid much attention to him yesterday, but Harry couldn't help but stare at him now. Slughorn looked to have lost quite a bit of weight. He was still a portly man, but now resembled his younger self, at least in that regard. Whatever he'd lost in weight, he seemed to have gained in years. He looked tired and drawn and he was nervously wringing his hands.

Hermione, Ron and several other students were eying him curiously.

"Good morning class," he began. "Welcome to seventh-year Advanced Potions. I trust you all had enjoyable holidays."

Slughorn's voice was as cheerful as always, but he seemed to be reciting from memory and he looked to be a miles away in thought.

"You can leave your books and equipment packed away for today. I thought it'd be a good idea to review and see what you remembered from last year."

For the next hour and a half, Slughorn drilled them on every potion they'd ever concocted or read about last year. Harry was amazed to realize he'd remembered a great deal. Their final review was to compose from memory, a list of ingredients required to brew the Draught of Living Death. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ernie were the first group to finish and their list was the most accurate. They earned fifteen points for Gryffindor and five for Hufflepuff. Zabini finally swore under his breath.

The bell rang and Slughorn disappeared from the room before the students had even gathered their book bags.

"Do you get the feeling he's trying to avoid us?" asked Ron.

"He's definitely uneasy about something," said Hermione. "I'm off to Arithmancy. I'll see you in an hour."

"I guess now is as good a time as any to retrieve Snape's old Potions book. Coming?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, let's go," answered Ron.

By the time they made their way up to the seventh floor, it was empty of any other movement. Still, they walked quietly along the corridor until they came upon the tapestry of the dancing trolls. Ron waited while Harry paced this stretch of corridor three times. A door appeared in the stone wall and they entered.

It had materialized as the same large and overflowing storage room it had been on the day Harry hid the Potions books.

"What a mess," said Ron.

Harry kept walking with Ron following and eying the odd assortment of items. Harry immediately noticed that the Vanishing Cabinet was gone. He wasn't surprised. Destroying it was probably the first thing the Order did when he told them of its existence on the night of the attack. Every other discarded or forgotten object that he recalled seeing that night was still there.

Harry walked over to the tattered cupboard and looked at its top. The bust he'd used to mark his hiding spot was still perched atop the cupboard. He reached inside the cabinet, behind the caged skeleton and pulled out the copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_.

He opened it and flipped through the pages, his anger rising as he looked at the small, tight writing of a young Severus Snape. He snapped it shut and placed it in his book bag.

"Ron, where are you?" called Harry when he didn't see him.

"I'm over here," he answered. "There's some amazing stuff hidden in here."

Harry moved in the direction of Ron's voice and found him fascinated by a set of brightly colored Gobstones.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," said Harry. "If it's in here, then it was hidden for a reason and there's no telling what liquid is filling them."

"Good point," replied Ron. "Are you ready to go? It's still a bit early, but we can start the queue for Defense class."

"I'm all set," said Harry, glancing at his watch.

When Harry and Ron reached the first floor corridor outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found several students already waiting.

"Looks like Jillian already has a fan club," whispered Ron, as they got closer.

Seamus, Dean, Neville and to their surprise, Justin Finch-Fletchley, were already there.

"Hello, Harry. Hello, Ron," said Smith. "It looks like we've had a schedule change."

Gryffindors normally shared larger classes with the Slytherins. But if Justin was standing here, then this year's Defense class was being shared with the Hufflepuffs, instead.

"Hi, Justin. Yeah, so it seems," said Harry.

"Maybe this year won't be so bad after all," said Dean.

They all laughed.

The bell rang and a minute later, they saw Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan round the corner and head towards them. Lavender showed up with another Hufflepuff, Megan Jones.

Lavender looked a bit lost without her best friend, Parvati. That meant she and Hermione were sharing a dormitory. Given the tension last year with the Ron, Lavender and Hermione triangle, Harry wondered how things were going between the two girls.

He'd been in a similar circumstance when Dean and Ginny broke up last year, and then Harry started dating her. But guys were different. It'd been a bit awkward when it first happened, but they seemed to have moved past it. It wouldn't be long before the others realized Ginny and Harry had split up; but Harry didn't think Dean would dance with glee, at least not openly. Girls, he suspected, were a different story.

"Hi, Harry. Hi, Ron," said Lavender with some effort.

Ron colored ever so slightly and waved in response before turning to start a conversation with Neville.

"Hi, Lavender," said Harry. "I was sorry to hear that Parvati wasn't coming back."

"Thanks. She's miserable. Her parents are considering moving and letting her and Padma finish school elsewhere."

Hermione walked into the corridor with Wayne Hopkins, another Hufflepuff who was apparently in her Arithmancy class, and joined the others.

"Hi," she said as she passed them and went to stand next to Lavender.

"How's your day going?" asked Hermione.

"Slowly," answered Lavender, looking crestfallen.

"It'll get better," said Hermione. "Would you like to sit together in class?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks," answered Lavender.

Ron turned and looked at Harry, bewilderment clearly written across his face. Harry was certain the same expression was on his own, as he would have never predicted this turn of events.

He caught Hermione's eye, and she just gave him a little smile and continued talking with Lavender as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The door to the classroom opened inward, held by Professor Grayson.

"Hello, class. Please come in and take your seats," she said and stepped back to allow them to enter one by one.

The classroom had been rearranged. The double desks had been set up with spaces between them to form a large semicircle, with Professor Grayson's desk set center and furthest back. The arrangement was both intimate and functional. You could see each other clearly, and the arrangement left a large amount of floor space in the center of the room for practical demonstrations and lessons.

When everyone was seated, she walked between the space where Harry and Ron sat next to Neville and Justin and stood facing them all. She'd pulled her hair up and back from her face in a clip, revealing beautiful sapphire earrings. She wore light weight robes in shades of blue with silver stitching and high heeled shoes.

Harry looked around at the others, and coughed in his hand to conceal his smile. He and Ron were thankful to have already met her, or they'd probably be looking as goofy as the rest of the boys in the class. Seamus was staring slack jawed and Justin kept blinking and shaking his head intermittently, as if trying to clear a mirage. The girls were looking at Jillian admirably, like they thought she'd be the coolest big sister in the world. Hermione sat quietly, and like Harry and Ron, was trying not to grin.

Jillian pretended not to notice any of this and went right ahead with introductions.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. If any of you missed the opening feast, I am Professor Jillian Grayson and I am delighted to be here with you. As I am new to the school, the headmistress was kind enough to provide photos of each of you, so we can test out my memory today. Now then, I understand you have had six different instructors in six years, amidst some rather unusual circumstances. I was also given access to your O.W.L. and yearly exam results, and I must say, I was pleased to see how well you've done, despite the circumstances. So, who can tell me where you left off last year?" she asked.

Almost every hand shot up and Jillian called on Susan Bones.

"We spent most of last year learning nonverbal spells, Professor," said Susan.

"And how did that go?" asked Jillian.

There was a mixture of moans, groans and shrugs from most of the class.

"That well?" she asked in cheek. "I guess I'll have to find out for myself, then."

She pulled her wand and a large trunk appeared at her feet. She opened it and pulled a vase from it.

"You can all help me decorate the classroom," she said. "Mr. Finnigan, would you please join me?"

Seamus colored and his eyes went wide as he left his seat and went to stand beside Jillian.

"I think this vase might look lovely in the center window sill," she said. "Would you mind moving it for me, nonverbally, of course."

"Yes, Professor Grayson," replied Seamus.

Seamus screwed up his face and appeared to be concentrating, but he was unable to move the vase. A few others failed in this task, as well. Justin was so pleased that he was finally able to move it that he stopped concentrating and sent the vase crashing to the floor.

"Sorry, Professor," he said as he mumbled "_Reparo_," and placed the repaired vase back in her outstretched hand.

"That's quite all right. Ms. Granger, if you please," said Jillian.

Hermione joined Jillian in the center of the room, pulled and flicked her wand, and the vase soared to the designated window sill.

"Very good indeed," said Jillian as Hermione retreated back to her seat.

She retrieved a set of book ends from the trunk and called Ron forward, saying, "Mr. Weasley, would you mind placing these atop the shelf behind my desk?"

Ron took his place in the center of the room. Nothing happened on his first attempt, but on his second, the book ends moved easily to the book shelf and stood erect.

"Well done," said Jillian.

A few others managed to move some books to the shelf, as well. Then it was Harry's turn.

"Mr. Potter," began Jillian, "that vase looks a bit lonely. I think it could use a nice arrangement of roses. I saw some lovely ones growing outside the main entrance. And they'll need water, as well."

Harry hoped she was joking, but apparently not. She continued to look at him and added kindly, "You may do so from your seat, if you prefer."

Great. He wouldn't have to stand and fail miserably in front of the class. He could do so from the comfort of his own seat. How thoughtful. The charms weren't the problem. He could do those easily. He'd just never been great at nonverbal spells, especially in Snape's class. But Snape wasn't here anymore, so at least he wouldn't have to endure his scowl. Harry nodded, pulled his wand and focused on his desktop.

With the first silent wave of his wand, an empty pitcher appeared in front of him; with the second, his wand emitted a stream of water that half filled the pitcher.

Harry took a deep breath and continued, concentrating hard. He used silent combinations of banishing, hovering, animating and conjuring charms to send the pitcher to the window sill, empty its contents into the vase, and return the pitcher to his desk. He'd thought it was a funny bit of magic when Hermione had used something similar to douse Ron earlier in the summer; but this was hard work.

He looked up and Jillian nodded encouragingly. He closed his eyes, flicked his wand and thought _"Accio"_ one last time as he concentrated on the rose bushes that lined the front walk. Moments later, a brilliantly mixed bouquet landed in front of him. With his eyes still closed, he sent the bouquet across the room and placed them gently in the vase.

Harry opened his eyes and saw the entire room staring at him. Hermione and Ron were grinning.

"Wow, Harry," said Neville. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Neither did I," said Harry earnestly.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter," said Jillian approvingly before she turned her attention back to the full class.

"I want you all to continue practicing nonverbal spells. I won't lie to you and say it's not a difficult skill to learn, but it can be mastered."

Several doubtful faces were turned towards her.

"Let's try a different approach. You know how you sometimes daydream about getting the nerve to ask out that somebody you secretly fancy and they say yes?" she asked.

Almost everyone was nodding.

"You can actually hear the conversation taking place inside your head, but you haven't said a word aloud, right?" she asked.

More nods answered her.

"That's the same principle behind nonverbal spells. You have to hear it in your own mind, and concentrate on what it is you are trying to do."

The bell rang and everyone began gathering his or her things.

"We'll pick it up again on Thursday. Have a good afternoon, everyone."

"Bye, Professor Grayson," chimed several voices.

"Mr. Potter, may I have a word with you, please?" she asked as the others moved from the room.

Hermione and Ron waved goodbye. They knew Harry had a second lesson scheduled.

When the last student had gone and she and Harry were alone, Jillian used her wand to close and lock the door.

"Hi, Harry," she said and turned a dimpled smile on him.

"Hi, Professor," he said hesitantly.

"Please, none of that. You may call me Jillian when we are alone, unless it makes you uncomfortable," she added.

"No, not at all. Thanks, Jillian," he said.

She moved to sit behind her own desk and conjured a single chair beside it, as well as a couple of chilled bottles of butterbeer. She used her hand to indicate that Harry should join her and handed him a bottle as he sat down with her.

"I imagine you are probably a bit thirsty after that little exercise," she said with her eyes twinkling.

"Umh, yes," said Harry tentatively.

"I'm sorry to have picked on you, but I needed to get a firm gauge on what you could do," she said.

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Because I promised Dumbledore that I would help you," she said simply.

Harry had been in mid swallow and nearly choked on his beverage. He wiped his mouth with his hand and looked at Jillian.

"Sorry, what?" he asked with alarm.

She met his gaze and held it, finally saying, " I suppose I should start at the beginning."

"Please," said Harry, still on edge.

"As you know, our father was a student here, and Dumbledore had been one of his favorite professors. He was one of the few wizards Dad stayed in contact with here when he moved away. When Kingsley came back here for school and we visited him, those trips always included a visit with Dumbledore, as well. Even after my visits lessened in frequency, he and Dad stayed in touch and he obviously had a direct link to us through Kingsley. So, he knew I'd gone into the family business, so to speak," she explained.

"All right," said Harry, a little more relaxed but still unsure where this conversation was leading.

"Dumbledore contacted me two years ago and asked me to consider taking this same teaching post. I declined politely, and he asked again last year, and got the same response."

"Had you heard about the jinx?" asked Harry.

"What jinx?" asked Jillian. "Oh, the one Voldemort supposedly cast that's been responsible for the yearly turn over rate for this position. That legend has been floating around for a long time; but no, I hadn't given it any thought. I had personal reasons for refusing, and let's leave it at that."

"Sure," said Harry. "But you are here now, so what changed your mind?"

"When I declined last year, Dumbledore showed up at my parents' home for a face-to-face meeting. He talked a lot about Voldemort and the second war. He trusted my father and brother, and extended that trust to me. Some of the additional Order and Ministry support has come from us."

"Yeah, Moody said your dad had sent in reinforcements," added Harry.

"Anyway, I kept waiting for Dumbledore to back me into a corner and try and change my mind about the teaching position. But he never did. He talked quite a bit about you, though. He spoke in very general terms, but he was obviously very fond of you."

"Then what happened?" asked Harry.

"Nothing, at least for almost a year—and then, you know better than anyone what happened. After the services, Kingsley came home for a short visit and handed me a letter from Dumbledore. It was to be delivered only in the event something happened to him. In it, he asked again that I accept this teaching post at Hogwarts. It also directed me to give you private lessons in Advanced Defenses. That, in short, is why I am here," she said.

There was something weird going on, but the puzzle pieces were too varied for Harry to get a handle on them. Just as he had on that morning he talked at the Burrow with Lupin, Harry was trying to figure out how Dumbledore could have know any of this would ever be necessary.

"You could have refused, again, you know," said Harry.

"No, I couldn't. There's no way I was going to turn down the wishes of someone who'd died as he had. Besides, Kingsley already knew what Dumbledore wanted me to do, and he wasn't going to take 'no' as answer from me again. He doesn't show a lot of emotion, but Kingsley was crushed when Dumbledore died. There was no way I could disappoint him."

"I don't know what to say," said Harry.

"There isn't anything to say, really. I know why I'm here and I know what I have to accomplish. We've got a lot of work to do, but if today's demonstration was any indication, then we're going to get on just fine, Harry."

"Thanks," he said.

"Don't thank me just yet. I can be a bit of a taskmaster. You might be trying to banish me before too long," she said and laughed.

Harry laughed with her and then the bell rang again.

"Get going," she said and stood up. "You've got a little over an hour before lunch ends. And Harry, I'm also with the Order now, so yell if you need anything."

"Right, thanks," he said and headed for the door, which unlocked and swung open as he crossed the length of the room.

Jillian watched him leave and then leaned heavily against the edge of the desk with her arms shaking beneath her robes.

Harry made it to the Great Hall and plopped down beside Ron.

"You just missed Hermione. She headed off to Ancient Runes," said Ron through a mouth full of cobbler. "How'd it go?"

"You won't believe me when I tell you," he said quietly, "but let's talk tonight so I can tell you and Hermione together."

After lunch, Ron said he was going to the library to do some independent studying of his own. He'd talked with Hermione and decided to table adding to the R.A.B. list for now; and instead, was going to start researching background on the names he'd already compiled. It sounded about as a good an idea as any they'd had, so he and Harry parted ways outside the Great Hall.

Hedwig had flown in while he was eating lunch and delivered a short note from McGonagall informing him that his two o'clock class would be held in a normally empty classroom on the first floor.

Harry walked into the small room and found it empty of all furniture. Instead, it was covered with mats and had swords and funny looking sticks mounted along the walls.

"Good afternoon, Harry," said a strange voice.

Harry turned and found himself looking at DeSousa.

"Sorry, I didn't intend to sneak up on you," he said as he closed and locked the classroom door. " I guess I should introduce myself properly. My full name is Andre Michael DeSousa. You may use any of them. It's a pleasure to finally meet you properly," he said, walking forward and holding out his hand.

"Hi, Andre," Harry said, trying out the name. It seemed to fit him. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair and hooded blue eyes. "It's good to meet you, as well," he added as he shook hands. "Have you been here all day?"

"Yes, I'm stationed here for security, as well. I've been patrolling outdoors most of the day."

"Oh, are you my Independent Study instructor?" asked Harry.

"So, that's what they labeled it. Cute," he said.

"Labeled what?" asked Harry and he was getting more uncomfortable as he took in the rest of the room and DeSousa's clothing.

"Let's just call it Strength Training," he said and tossed Harry a set of clothes that looked very much like those worn during the Triwizard competitions. "You can change behind that screen over there," he added.

"Excuse me," said Harry.

"Go on. I've only got you until half past three and I need to know what I'm working with."

This was truly turning into the strangest day. Harry did as instructed and returned to find DeSousa standing in the middle of the room, balancing on one leg.

"Okay, let's get the formalities out of the way," began DeSousa, still balancing stock still on the same leg. "I joined the Order a little over two years ago. I attended Hogwarts and was in Ravenclaw, five years behind Sirius, Lupin and your father. My mother is a witch by birth and my father is a Muggle born wizard."

He paused to let Harry catch up with his rapid fire speech.

"My father's brother, Uncle Michael, is a decorated member of what is currently known as the United Kingdom Special Forces. He's in charge of hand-to-hand combat training and my female cousins can take care of themselves. Uncle Michael has no sons, so he doted on his only nephew and namesake, me. A wizard without a wand is just an unarmed man, and I'm here to make sure you can handle yourself in any circumstance, Potter, per Dumbledore's request, of course."

DeSousa finally stopped for air and Harry had a second to process what he'd heard.

"So, you're here to teach me how to fight?" asked Harry, feeling silly for asking the question.

"Well, I hope I'm here to help teach you how to survive," he answered and finally lowered his leg back down to the floor. "I've heard about your prowess on the Quidditch field and on a broomstick, so I guess it's safe to assume you're pretty quick."

"I do all right," he said.

"Yes, I heard you were modest, too. Well, let's see what you've got," he said, handing Harry a pair of sparring gloves and demonstrating how to put them on.

Harry hadn't quite finished putting on his second glove when something made him look up and he was just in time to register DeSousa's gloved hand coming at his midsection. He stepped back reflexively and pivoted on the spot.

"Not bad, Harry," said DeSousa. "Not bad at all, especially for a pop quiz."

Harry was eying DeSousa suspiciously and wondering how many fists to the head he might have taken at the hands of Uncle Michael. His fears were laid to rest as time passed. DeSousa was an excellent instructor. He obviously moved and talked at rapid speed; but when training, he was patient and extremely thorough.

They worked through various pugilism stances and proper form for an array of punches and jabs. Harry practiced each one slowly until he could execute it to Andre's satisfaction. His last exercise was a serious of punch and jab combinations that left his arms burning.

DeSousa finally called an end to their lesson, and unlocked and opened the door while Harry went to retrieve his belongings.

"Final classes have already started, so the hallways should be fairly clear, Harry," he said. "Head to the showers before you get too stiff. If anyone sees you and asks where you've been, just tell then you went for a run," he added. "I'll see you back here on Thursday."

"Okay, Andre. Thank you," said Harry as he slipped into the corridor and made his way upstairs to the Prefects' bathroom, hoping Moaning Myrtle wasn't in residence today.

He was in luck and after a long, hot soak felt loads better. Harry made his way to the seventh floor corridor, gave the new password, "Time-Turner," to the portrait of the Fat Lady and was admitted to the common room.

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him.

"Hi," he said. "Has everyone else already gone down for dinner?" asked Harry.

"Yes," answered Hermione. "I asked Ginny to save us seats. What happened with you today?"

Harry sat on the sofa, pulled his wand and sent his belongings upstairs, and then told them all about his private session with Jillian and Independent Study with DeSousa.

They were as shocked as he'd been.

"This gets more unbelievable by the day," said Ron.

"Yeah, and this is only the first day of classes. Who knows what will happen tomorrow," said Harry, pulling his tired form from the couch and following Ron and Hermione back through the portrait hole for dinner.


	16. Chapter 16: Hocus Pocus

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: HOCUS FOCUS 

In the dead of night, long before birds would chirp and while nearly every inhabitant of Hogwarts was asleep, another small group was gathered far away. For those assembled, most secretly wished they hadn't been summoned. The past three days had been among the most difficult to endure, and for the lucky ones, to witness.

Pettigrew had returned from Ottery St. Catchpole sometime after midnight, Sunday morning. Snape, Bellatrix, Baldwin and Dolohov were waiting with Voldemort when he scampered in and transformed. Snape refused to be impressed by the Animagus. He saw nothing noteworthy about the rat of a man turning into his true self, anyway.

It was Pettigrew's report however, that made them all take notice. He nervously informed Voldemort that the Weasley home was empty. He'd seen no sign of them as he hid in the fields and searched for a way inside. He'd finally managed to gain entry after a long trip through a drainpipe. There was no one inside and no indication that anyone would be returning. He'd waited an entire day before starting his long journey back to their hideout.

Voldemort's angry eyes flashed red, but he said absolutely nothing to Pettigrew. He'd turned and nodded at Bellatrix. Her cruel eyes flashed with excitement before she bowed to Voldemort and rushed from the room, with Baldwin at her heels.

The Dark Lord had said nothing to the others and simply vanished from the room. He remained eerily silent and unapproachable until Bella, Baldwin and a few of their more recent recruits returned late Monday evening.

Bellatrix really was nearly unrecognizable. She'd actually lopped off her long tresses and magically colored what remained auburn. Donned in a flatteringly cut dark green robe and matching cloak, one could easily mistake her for a normal witch out and about for a day of shopping. That is, until you looked closely, and saw the perpetual snarl on her lips and the hard glint of her eyes.

On Monday evening she also sported a long gash on the right side of her exposed neck. Baldwin was winded and favoring his left leg. The three others with them were marked with an array of gashes and bruises. Things had apparently not gone well.

She had the unfortunate duty of informing Voldemort that they'd nearly gotten to the train when they were somehow spotted and then swarmed by a contingent of Order members. They had lost three Death Eaters, with one confirmed dead.

Voldemort hadn't cared how many of them had been hurt or killed. He only wanted to know if Potter had been on that train. When they could not give him that information, his rage pulsated through the room.

In a blink, he had moved from the center of the room and stood directly behind two of Bella's new charges.

With a bone chilling "_Avada Kedavra_," the first wizard dropped to the floor, dead. The second one tuned and reflexively pulled his wand in one hand, and tried to shield his face with the other. That had been a mistake. Voldemort toyed with the pleading Death Eater until nearly dawn on Tuesday. He seemed to take great pleasure in torturing him; and finally, when he'd grown bored, mercifully whispered the killing curse once more.

And now, with both bodies still on the stone floor, Bellatrix, Snape, Dolohov and Baldwin stood waiting for the next wave of his fury.

Pettigrew entered the room, escorting Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. They were both pale and sickly looking, still moving slower than normal. Narcissa shuddered visibly and lowered her head at the sight of the Death Eaters' dead bodies. She and Draco had been at the receiving end of Voldemort's rage and she knew that could be them at any moment. Draco showed no reaction to the bodies; in fact, he seemed not to be reacting to anything. Snape watched him closely.

"Come here, Draco," said Voldemort.

Draco walked forward stiffly and stood before Voldemort. Nagini, coiled by her master's feet, raised her head slightly and hissed at Draco.

"Yes, My Lord," he said.

"Draco, I need information, and they," he said, pointing at the dead Death Eaters, "failed to obtain it. My patience is growing rather thin. Can you assist me?" he asked mockingly.

"I'll do whatever you ask, My Lord," answered Draco.

"How many of your former housemates were allowed to return to Hogwarts?" demanded Voldemort.

"Only two that I associated with," he replied. "Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini."

"Do you trust them?"

"It's not wise to trust many people," answered Draco. "Blaise will always look out for himself, so as long as there's no risk for him, sure. But Pansy would do anything I ask."

"Good, Draco," said Voldemort softly. "I want you to contact Miss Parkinson and find out if Potter is back at school. You will need to word your correspondence carefully. No one but Ms. Parkinson can know what it is about or know that it is from you."

"I can do that, My Lord."

"Wormtail," called Lord Voldemort. "Please find another owl for Draco's use. We do not want the Malfoy eagle owl recognized at Hogwarts. Make sure you check his letter before allowing it to be sent."

"Yes, right away, My Lord," answered Pettigrew.

"And Draco, please tell me you understand the consequences should you fail me," added Voldemort, with a glance once more at the bodies on the floor.

"Yes, Master. I understand completely," he answered with his eyes still flat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later, Harry was once again at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He'd wanted a little time to himself, and hadn't waited for either Hermione or Ron. He was eating slowly and trying to sort out everything running around in his head. Something was nagging at him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Who was he kidding? Everything was nagging at him: the Horcruxes, what Voldemort was up to, concern for his friends, and Dumbledore's complex and puzzling plans.

"Morning, Potter," came Moody's voice from across the room. He was standing in the doorway to the antechamber near the top of the room. "We need a moment."

Harry grabbed his things and headed for the doorway. He hadn't been in here since the morning of the final task in the Triwizard Tournament.

"Hi, Moody," he said as he moved to close the door and found Lupin standing behind it.

"Hello, Harry," said Lupin. "How are you?"

"Lupin," said Harry, relieved to finally see him again. "I'm okay; how are you?"

"I'm fine, really," he answered.

"Is everyone all right? Professor McGonagall said there'd been Death Eaters in Hogsmeade near the train…"

"Slow down, Harry," said Lupin kindly. "Have a seat, please. Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"They're still in Gryffindor Tower. I don't know how soon they'll be down," he answered.

"Well, you can give them the highlights, yourself," said Moody. "I've already updated Minerva."

"Yes, Harry," began Lupin, "a small band of Death Eaters were in Hogsmeade Monday afternoon and they did manage to get fairly close to Hogsmeade station."

"How were they spotted?" asked Harry.

"We believe there were six to eight of them approaching the station. Dozens of Auror and Order members were spread throughout the village, as well. Most of these Death Eaters were newer members. One definitely was not, and that is when the alarm was sounded.

"Who was it?" asked Harry.

Lupin seemed not to want to answer, but he said, "It was Bellatrix, Harry."

Harry saw red behind his eyes. How had that raving, murdering lunatic gotten that close to the station and not been spotted.

"Please tell me she was the Death Eater that was killed," Harry said in barely above a whisper.

"She was not," said Lupin. "She'd altered her appearance dramatically. Even I barely recognized her."

"You're the one who spotted her, then," said Harry.

"Yes," he said. "I was facing a store window, my back to the street, when I caught her reflection as she crossed the street. Nothing about her seemed familiar until she turned to look further down the street and I saw her eyes. I do not believe I shall ever forget them."

"That makes two of us," answered Harry. He knew Lupin, like Harry himself, was remembering the sick look upon her face as she watched Sirius fall through that black veil in the Ministry.

"She may have gotten away," said Moody, "but she went back empty handed and with half her friends dead or captured. I reckon her boss wasn't too happy about that."

"In the meantime," said Lupin, "we've increased security in the castle and on the grounds.

"Yeah, we've noticed," said Harry.

"By the way, how are your new professors?" asked Moody with his magical eye rolling.

"We had Jillian's class yesterday. She was amazing. We'll see Tonks this morning, and I'm sure that'll be great," answered Harry.

"We've tried to place mostly Order members in the castle and on the immediate grounds," said Moody. "I'll be leaving today and working out of Hogsmeade with Kingsley. We've got Aurors all over the village, too."

"Where will you be, Lupin?" asked Harry.

"Mostly at Headquarters, and wherever else I am needed. Jillian and Nymphadora will send us regular reports; but reach out to any of us if you need anything, all right?"

"Okay. Be careful," said Harry.

The bell rang and Harry pulled the door open a crack. He waited several minutes until the noise died down and the hall emptied before easing through the doorway and moving towards the double doors at the opposite end.

With barely a minute to spare, he slipped into the seat beside Ron at the front of the Transfiguration classroom.

"Where've you been?" asked Ron.

Harry waved at Hermione in the next row and whispered to Ron, "I'll tell you later."

They didn't get to talk about anything else because Tonks entered the room.

"Good morning. Good morning," she called cheerfully as she walked to the front of the room. "It is so good to be back here, again."

It was weird seeing her in professional robes. Harry looked down and jabbed Ron lightly in the ribs. Tonks was wearing bright pink trainers that poked out beneath her conservative black robes, and sporting radically cool, matching pink earrings.

"Please, Professor Tonks," came Megan Jones's voice, "would you mind telling us which house you were in?"

They were sharing a class with the Hufflepuffs, again. McGonagall hadn't said a word about this change, but somehow Harry knew it had been done at Dumbledore's urging.

"I'm a badger, just like you," she answered. "I'm a true Hufflepuff, through and through."

Everyone laughed. Harry thought about everything he'd learned about Helga Hufflepuff and knew she would have definitely approved of Nymphadora Tonks.

Transfiguration class was loads of fun. Tonks made a game of reviewing a lot of what they'd learned over the last six years. In between exercises, she dazzled them with amazing bits of Transfiguration, like turning an empty desk into a pink and purple striped baby elephant. Students were still scrambling to talk to her when the bell rang.

"We are still using a _Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_, so please make sure you read chapter twenty before Friday. We'll pick up there. Have a good day," she called to the slowly retreating class.

"Why do the cool teachers show up in our last year?" complained Dean Thomas as they walked along the corridor. "Wouldn't it have been awesome to have her and Professor Grayson – and oh, yeah, Professor Lupin on staff all these years?"

"They are great teachers," said Hermione earnestly. "But we've learned lots under Professor McGonagall and the others, too."

"Harry, what's the matter?" asked Ron with a wink when he realized Harry had stopped walking with them and was pretending to dig through his bag.

"I think something fell out of my bag in Transfiguration. You all go ahead. I'll catch up later," he said and turned back down the corridor.

He knocked on the door and was admitted once more by Tonks, who closed and locked the door behind them.

"Wotcher, Harry!" said Tonks. "Sorry, I couldn't think of a really good reason to keep you after class today. I figured you'd find a way to slip back here."

"No problem. Class was great, by the way. You're really good at this," he said sincerely.

"Thanks."

"So let me guess," he said, "you got a letter from Dumbledore."

"You know about that, huh?" she asked.

"A bit; but I don't know what was in it," he replied.

"Well, Dumbledore asked that I train you in Transfiguration. Originally, I thought I'd just be stationed here from the Ministry and that we'd sneak off somewhere and practice. Then McGonagall talked to me and offered me this position, and it seemed like a better solution."

"So, what are we going to work on?"

"Well, we'll continue reviewing for this session. You did pretty well in class today. I'm just going to help you fine tune your technique."

"Okay."

"Afterwards, we'll follow the class syllabus, just at a faster pace then the rest of the class. While the class works through the text, you and I will branch out into more complex Transfiguration."

"Like what?" asked Harry.

"Like this," she said and pulled her wand and turned the center of the far wall into a running waterfall. "And this," she added as Harry stared in amazement at a small statue of a leopard that became the real thing. With a few quick waves from her wand, the wall and statue were once again in place.

"Are you serious?" asked Harry.

"Absolutely," said Tonks. "I know you can do it, and Dumbledore knew it, too. I hear he was a phenomenal Transfiguration professor. I'm sorry he didn't get to teach you, himself; but I'm flattered he trusted me to do it."

For the next half hour, Tonks had Harry transfiguring everything from paper clips to owls. He even managed to turn his entire head of hair an electrifying shade of blue.

"Hey, I like that," said Tonks as Harry laughed and untransfigured his hair back to normal.

"I prefer it this way, thanks," he said.

"I want you to work on concentrating," she said, turning serious again. "You know the spells and incantations, and I can already see a difference in your technique from earlier this morning. Your transfigurations are already smoother; but they can be better and faster, the more you are able to focus."

"Okay, I'll try," he said.

"Good. I know it's easier said than done, especially with everything that's going on. I'd be a basket case if I were in your place. Honestly, I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Tonks," he said just as the bell rang again.

Harry had a free period and decided to go outside. He walked out the castle doors and found them guarded by DeSousa.

"Going for a walk, Mr. Potter?" he asked.

"Yeah, I won't be long."

"Not a problem. It's a lovely day. Enjoy," said the Order member with a wink at Harry.

Harry walked across the grounds, headed for the Black Lake. He bypassed his favorite spot and made his way to the east side of the bank. Finally, he stood under what had to be the largest and oldest tree in the vicinity. He looked up at the canopy of boughs, branches and dense leaves and felt confident this was the tree he'd read about in Hufflepuff's journal.

Harry walked around the massive trunk and tested the surrounding ground. Everything was packed tight. Nothing on the ground had been disturbed in a long time. How long would it take him to dig? Where would he start? Could he do it tonight?

Harry stretched out beneath the offered shade, closed his eyes, and tried to clear his mind. It wasn't working. At this rate, he really was going to need to use the Pensieve pretty soon. From a distance, he could hear excited laughter. He knew it had to be one of Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures classes. Some of them had been really fun and interesting. A few had not and he chose not to reminisce about those.

Suddenly, Harry sat straight up. Hagrid had magical creatures. More importantly, Hagrid had nifflers; and nifflers loved to dig for treasure.

Harry dashed back to the castle, passed DeSousa and made his way to the Owlery. Hedwig opened her amber eyes when she sensed him standing in front of her, scribbling a note.

"Sorry to wake you, girl," he said as he finished writing. "You can go back to sleep after I give this to you."

Hedwig obliged and stuck out her leg

"Can you deliver this to Hagrid for me, later today? Just make sure he gets it before dinner."

Hedwig hooted her reply and closed her eyes again.

For the second time that day, Harry barely made it to class on time. This time, he sat next to Hermione.

Professor Flitwick, standing atop his usual stack of books, called the class to order. He'd always been one of their favorite professors, and the class passed without incident. Even Seamus managed to get through review without blowing anything up or bowling over Professor Flitwick.

"Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter, could you stay for a few moments?" called Professor Flitwick at the end of class.

When the others had been dismissed, Flitwick turned to them.

"Ms. Granger," he began excitedly, "I was delighted with your project proposal. I think it's a fabulous idea and I'd be happy to give you whatever information you think would be helpful. Please come by when you have a free period and we'll schedule some sessions."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick," said Hermione as she nudged Harry beneath the desk. "I'll stop by later this afternoon."

"Excellent. You may go to your next class, now," said Flitwick. "Please close the door as you leave."

"See you later, Harry," said Hermione.

Harry's private lesson with Flitwick was going a little differently. He'd also gotten a request from Dumbledore to provide extra lessons, but apparently hadn't been given a lot of detail. Flitwick was not an Order member, but he was certainly astute enough to know something major was going on.

He didn't press Harry for answers; he simply began doing as Dumbledore had requested.

After he'd put Harry through a few paces, he gave the same advise as Tonks.

"Focus and balance are key, Mr. Potter," he said. "I heard about your impressive display during Defense Against the Dark Arts, yesterday. A few Hufflepuffs mentioned it to Professor Sprout, and she asked Professor Grayson about it in the staff lounge last evening."

"It was a lot harder than I thought it would be," said Harry.

"I'm sure it was. However, I can teach you to perform combined charms in the blink of an eye?"

"Really, Professor," said Harry.

"Yes, I can. You just need to work on your concentration."

"Okay, sir," said Harry doubtfully.

"We'll start slow and build up. For now, I want you to start learning the charms in this book," he said, summoning a large book that landed in Harry's hands. "Please try to get through chapter one before Monday's private lesson."

"I will, Professor."

"And, Mr. Potter," said Professor Flitwick, with a very knowing look in his eyes, "please don't hesitate to find me if I can be of any further assistance."

Harry was relieved to get to lunch and find both Hermione and Ron waiting for him today. He ate quickly and they left for a quick meeting in Gryffindor Tower. There were a few first-years in the common room, and they stared wide-eyed at Harry as he entered. The trio kept walking and rushed upstairs to the boys' empty dormitory. Harry closed the door and Hermione sealed the room.

He told them all about his conversation with Moody and Lupin, and about his private lessons with Tonks and Flitwick. He pulled out the charms book Flitwick had given him and handed it to Hermione.

"I'd hate to think what might have happened if Lupin hadn't spotted Bellatrix," said Ron.

"We'd probably be short a few more students," said Harry seriously.

"Harry, I've never seen this book in the library, or hardly any of these charms anywhere else," said Hermione as she flipped through the book. "This is fascinating."

"Yeah, well, I've got to get through the first chapter before Monday, so would you mind giving me a hand?"

"Of course not," she answered.

Next, he filled them in on his visit to the Black Lake and his note to Hagrid.

"Do you want us to go with you?" asked Ron.

"No, that's okay. I asked Hagrid to meet me in the entrance hall at nine o'clock. I'll be wearing my Cloak. I know I don't have to, but I'd rather avoid a hassle with Filch, anyway."

"We'll wait in the common room for you, then," said Hermione.

"Come on, put that book away," said Ron, "We need to get to Herbology."

Harry put the charms book under some robes in his trunk and then followed his friends downstairs and out to the Herbology greenhouses.

Finally, Harry had a regular class with no special sessions or secret messages or oddly behaving professors. True, he spent an hour working with aconite, an extremely poisonous plant, but otherwise, things were going okay.

His afternoon got a little brighter when, on their way back to the castle, he spotted Ginny walking towards them.

"Hi," she said. " I got out of my last class a little early today and thought I'd come meet you. Do you want to go for a walk?"

"You two go ahead," said Ron, a little too quickly. "Hermione's got another class and I need to do some homework. We'll catch up later."

He and Ginny spent a quite afternoon walking the grounds and talking about the simplest of things. They ended up at the Quidditch pitch, which they both admitted they missed. They saw Kipling nearby and he nodded at them before they walked onto the field.

It was completely and eerily silent. He and Ginny stopped in its center and looked around at rows and rows of empty seats.

"This feels wrong," said Harry, talking about the empty playing pitch.

"So do other things," said Ginny, clearing talking about them.

Harry couldn't argue the point. He'd missed her terribly while she was in France. He was grateful for whatever time they managed to spend in mixed company with Ron and Hermione, and the others. But he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want more. He missed moments like these most of all. He'd been trying so hard to keep her safety foremost in his thoughts, well ahead of his own wishes.

She walked closer to him and could see the battle raging behind the beautiful green eyes she loved so much.

"I know," she said quietly, and reached out to cup his jaw in her small hand. She hesitated a moment, but then stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently.

She didn't pull away fast enough and Harry finally gave in, reached for her other hand and pulled her closer and returned the kiss, long, hungrily and deeply. Everything else fell away. Only this moment existed and all other thoughts vanished.

When they finally broke apart, Harry knew he shouldn't have done it; but he couldn't even pretend to regret it. Neither could Ginny. They looked at each other and communicated so much without uttering a single word.

"You'd better go," he finally said in a thick voice, squeezing her hand before releasing it. "Tell Ron and Hermione I decided to go to Hagrid's first, okay?"

"Aren't you coming to dinner?" she asked, her own voice slightly strained.

"No, I'll probably just eat with Hagrid," said Harry.

He'd never choose Hagrid's cooking over the school meals, but he needed to pull himself together.

"Okay, I'll see you later. Be careful," she said and walked quietly away.

Harry knew Kipling was still nearby and would watch her. Still, he existed minutes behind her and followed in her path at a slow pace until he could see her approaching the castle. Satisfied, he continued on his own to Hagrid's cabin.

Hagrid opened the door, and was holding Harry's note that Hedwig must have just delivered.

"Harry, what are yeh doing here? "I'm supposed to meet yeh at nine," he said, waving the letter at Harry.

"I needed some air and decided to come down to you, instead," said Harry as he stepped across the threshold. "Is this a bad time?"

"Course not," said Hagrid. "I'm always glad to see yeh."

Harry sat at Hagrid's large wooden table and got a large, wet greeting from Fang.

"So what do yeh need with a couple of nifflers, Harry?" asked Hagrid.

Harry was going to make up some excuse, but then realized he didn't have the energy to keep inventing cover stories. He knew Hagrid would never do anything to put him in danger.

"I'm working on something Dumbledore wanted me to do," he answered truthfully.

"Sorry, but I'm not allowed to say any more about it."

"I know all about keepin' Dumbledore's secrets," said Hagrid. "I understand."

"So, can you help me?"

"Sure, Harry. Nifflers are out back. I guess yeh want to start when it gets dark, then."

"Yeah, over on the east bank of the lake," said Harry.

"All right. Why don't yeh go out back and visit with Buckbeak while I finish dinner. Soup's just 'bout finished and the bread won't take long."

Harry eyed the simmering pot suspiciously and got up and headed out back with Fang at his heels.

He spent the early evening visiting with the hippogriff and feeding him a meal of ferrets. Hagrid called him in for dinner and Harry stopped at a water bucket to wash his hands before returning to the cabin.

Harry was immensely relieved to find Hagrid had prepared vegetable soup and he didn't have to worry about identifying any strange and unknown meat. Even the fresh baked bread wasn't too bad.

When the sky was inky dark, Harry, Hagrid and Fang set off for the Black Lake with three nifflers on leashes. Harry pointed out the area he was interested in exploring and Hagrid turned one of the nifflers over to him. In less than an hour, the nifflers, illuminated by wand light, easily cut through the packed earth and dug in and out of the entire area surrounding the old tree.

They'd turned up coins, jewelry, buckles and even a small photo frame, but not the item Harry was hoping to uncover. Hagrid looked at him and Harry shook his head.

"Do yeh want to try another spot?" asked Hagrid hopefully.

Harry looked up at the huge tree and knew it was definitely the right one. It simply wasn't where Voldemort had chosen to hide the Hufflepuff relic.

"No, that's all right, Hagrid. It was a long shot, anyway. But thanks for your help."

"Well, since we dug up the ground, I might as well come back tomorrow mornin' and plant some flowers or somethin'," he said.

"That's a good idea. I can come down early and give you a hand," said Harry.

"Nah, you've got a lot to do. I can handle it. Come on, I'll walk with yeh to the castle," offered Hagrid.

Hagrid stood with Fang and the leashed nifflers and watched Harry walk up the stairs to the castle doors. DeSousa was standing sentry.

"Good evening, Potter," said the Order member.

Harry looked around to make sure no one was else was around and said, "Hi, Andre."

"You'd better get inside. Filch is on the prowl and I'm sure he'd love to try and hassle you."

"Right," said Harry as he walked into the huge foyer.

He started up the marble staircase and could hear the booms and clanks as DeSousa closed the heavy door and magically engaged the series of bolts and locks.

Ron and Hermione were indeed waiting for him in the common room. Ginny wasn't with them, and he was simultaneously pleased and disappointed by her absence.

"Are you all right?" asked Hermione.

"I'm fine," said Harry, but Hermione was looking at him as if she didn't believe him.

"Ginny said you decided to go to Hagrid's early. How'd it go?" asked Ron.

"Well, our funny little friends worked great, but it wasn't there," he said quietly. "I'll keep trying," he added discreetly.

"So will we, Harry," said Hermione. "It's getting late; we should get to sleep."

Thursday came and went and Harry awoke Friday morning with his back stiff and sore. Andre had decided that Harry should learn how to fall properly, and spent a good deal of their second session tossing him around with a variety of Jujitsu throws. A hot bath hadn't helped very much this time.

Harry was quiet during Transfiguration class and was grateful that today wasn't a double session.

He was, however, now on his way to his first private Potions lesson. He knocked on the classroom door and heard a muffled "enter."

Harry entered and found Slughorn looking even more agitated than he had been in regular classes this week.

"Are you all right, sir?" asked Harry.

"Does anyone else know you are here?" asked Slughorn suddenly.

"Professor McGonagall does, obviously; and R…" began Harry, but he stopped and looked at Professor Slughorn.

Harry had figured it out. Slughorn was afraid of the wrong people finding out he was aiding Harry. It was just like last year, when Dumbledore had such a hard time persuading Slughorn to teach at Hogwarts.

Harry had been on edge since early Wednesday evening and Slughorn was really starting to annoy him.

"Professor, if you don't want to do this, you really don't have to," he said as calmly as he could manage. "No one can make you."

"But Dumbledore wanted me to do this. He left this long letter and went on and on…"

"Dumbledore isn't here," said Harry, a bit more sharply than he'd intended. "I can walk out that door and we can pretend we never had this conversation."

Harry could see Slughorn wanting so badly to take him up on his last offer. This was just unbelievable. And Dumbledore thought he'd be willing to help?

Slughorn sighed and sat heavily in the chair behind his desk.

"I know you find me an old fool, Harry," said Slughorn.

"No, I don't," said Harry with some difficulty. "I just don't understand you. You're not a member of the Order and only a few people know that we're here. I'm not going to say anything and they certainly won't either."

"You have a lot of faith in your friends, Harry."

"Yes, I do," said Harry. "I trust them completely. Apparently, Dumbledore thought he could trust you. Was he wrong?" asked Harry.

Slughorn looked at him for a long moment.

"You really are as much a Gryffindor as he was," said Slughorn. "We're not all that brave."

"There are different types of bravery, you know," said Harry.

"He wrote that it was critical I instruct you," said Slughorn. "What happens if I don't?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

Slughorn said nothing more and Harry assumed he'd made up his mind, so he turned to leave.

"Wait, Harry," he called. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure? You'll give me extra Potions lessons?"

"No, my dear boy, not Potions -- although I imagine that's what it says on your schedule, then. No, Harry, Dumbledore wanted me to instruct you in Occlumency."

It was Harry's turn to sit down.

He searched his memories and recalled Dumbledore saying what an accomplished Occlumens Slughorn was.

"Neither of us seems to be at our best right now, Harry. Shall we start again next Friday, then?" asked Slughorn.

Harry nodded, mumbled "Thank you, sir," picked up his bag, stood and took his leave.

He roamed aimlessly around the castle trying to wrap his mind around everything he'd been told this week. He felt like something was staring him in the face and he couldn't see it.

At the next bell, he headed off to Defense Against the Dark Arts and took his usual seat next to Ron. Jillian had planned another excellent class, thus allowing him a slight reprieve from his uneasy thoughts.

Friday's Independent Study session rounded out his week of surprises. He walked into the first floor corridor expecting to head into class with DeSousa; but instead, found Firenze waiting quietly.

"Good afternoon, Harry Potter," said the centaur. "Your Friday lessons are with me."

"Oh," was about all he could think to reply.

"I think we should take advantage of the weather while we can. Please come with me," he said and they walked back towards the entry doors and out into the afternoon breeze.

They ended up in an open expanse of grass, with a distant view of the Whomping Willow. Harry sat down and waited for Firenze to say something; but the centaur continued to stand quietly and watch the sky, intermittently glancing at Harry.

After several awkward minutes, Harry broke the quiet and asked, "Firenze, shouldn't I be doing something?"

"You are," he replied simply.

"No, I'm not," said Harry slowly. "I'm just sitting here."

"That is what I want you to do."

"You want me to sit?"

"Yes, I want you to sit and relax for the remainder of the hour."

Harry found this really strange.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because your aura is overcharged; it is too chaotic."

"Sorry?"

"Every living thing has an energy field: the grass on which you sit, the breeze that caresses your skin, and the sun that lights this day," said Firenze.

"Okay," said Harry, even though he had no idea what the centaur was talking about.

"If you learn to quiet your energy and to focus it, you'd be amazed at how differently you see, hear and feel things. The wind in the trees tells us something. The alignment of the clouds tells us something. Everything speaks to us. I am going to teach you how to listen to it all; but most importantly, I am going to teach you how to listen to yourself."

Harry's raised brow said it all.

"Now then, find a position that is comfortable for you. I want you to remain still and quiet until the bell rings. Do you believe you can accomplish this task?"

"I don't see why not," he said, still failing to grasp the point of this particular exercise.

Harry stretched out and placed his bag beneath his head. To his dismay, it felt like the longest forty minutes ever, and he'd not done a great job of it. He kept doing odd things, like drumming his fingers against the ground or crossing one foot over the other.

"We shall try again next week, Harry Potter," said Firenze as he turned and galloped further across the grounds.

"I can hardly wait," thought Harry.


	17. Chapter 17: Less Is More

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: LESS IS MORE

Near the end of the second week of term, Harry was adjusting to his altered schedule and actually looking forward to most of his private lessons. He still wouldn't have an Occlumency lesson with Slughorn until tomorrow; and Firenze was likely to point out something odd, like Harry's eyes moving too much beneath his lids. Still, things were definitely interesting.

He and Ron were planning to visit the greenhouses on Saturday. Hermione had scheduled an interview with Professor Sprout for her special project, thus guaranteeing them a good amount of time to begin another search for Hufflepuff's cup.

For now, Harry was headed to a lesson with Jillian. They were going to work on counter-curses today. When he entered the classroom, he found her seated behind her desk.

"Hello, Harry," she said as she looked up.

"Hi, Jillian," he replied, dropping his bag atop one of the desks and pulling out his wand.

"I've got a bit of a treat for you today," she said, standing and coming to lean casually against the front of her desk. "Before we work counter-curses, I thought you might like to see some of Dad's work."

"Are you kidding?"

"No, they're in that large trunk over there," she said, indicating a far corner. "Go ahead, you can open it."

Harry put down his wand and went to pop the lid on the trunk. He recognized a few of items, like a Secrecy Sensor; but he had never seen a number of the detectors.

"Jillian, what's this?" he asked, picking up a dark glowing orb and turning to face her. His heart nearly stopped.

She was holding a small, but very sharp looking dagger. When her eyes met Harry's, she released it and sent it hurdling directly at him.

Harry's wand was across the room and he found he was suddenly unable to move his legs. "Please no, not Kingsley's sister..." he thought.

It felt as though everything was moving in slow motion. Harry could actually see the grooves in the tip of the dagger as it drew closer. When barely inches from him, the dagger veered to an angle and clattered loudly to the floor.

Harry looked at Jillian and lost it.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL …" he yelled, shaking with a mixture of anger and utter disbelief.

"Harry, calm down," she said easily.

"CALM DOWN?" he yelled. "I CAN'T MOVE MY LEGS AND YOU JUST TRIED TO STAB ME!"

She was still leaning against the desk, but now she was grinning at him. It wasn't the maniacal grin of a mad woman; it was just her usual charming, dimpled smile.

"If you stop bellowing at me for a few moments, I will explain," she said, flicking her wand and unbinding Harry's legs. With another silent wave, she sent his own wand back to him.

Harry caught it one handed, still holding the colored orb in his other. He was furious and shaking. She however, was calmly watching him and that unnerved him more than anything.

Jillian stood from the desk and Harry gripped his wand tighter and stepped back. She remained where she stood.

"Harry," she said as he continued to stare incredulously at her, "I wasn't trying to stab you, and I certainly wasn't trying to kill you. I was testing you, again."

"Testing what," he said irritably, "my resistance to heart failure! Jillian, that was not funny. If you hadn't stopped that dagger, I'd be lying in a pool of blood right now."

"I didn't stop it; you did," she said matter-of-factly.

"No, I did not," he said, looking at her as if he thought she'd truly gone daft. "I couldn't get out of the way. I couldn't do anything but watch…"

Her eyes never left his and she was nodding at him very slowly. The solid orb fell from his hand and rolled across the floor, coming to rest against a leg of one of the desks.

His anger was abating, but panic was setting in. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. His blood seemed to be humming just under the surface of his skin. It was the same sensation he'd felt after his encounter with Mundungus at Mrs. Figg's home. There'd even been a dull echo of it when he visited Godric's Hollow. Why was it happening again?

"Harry," came Jillian's voice from what felt like a great distance, "I think you should sit down."

He did so and looked at her. She gave him a few moments and then approached him slowly.

"First of all," she started, "I would never have allowed that dagger to touch you. If you hadn't been able to stop it, I would have. But I needed to be certain that what Dumbledore suspected and shared with me was indeed true."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"So he knew what was wrong with me?" he asked, panic causing him to dismiss the assurances Lupin had given him over the summer.

Jillian took the adjoining seat and shifted to face him. This time, Harry didn't even attempt to move.

"Harry, there isn't anything wrong with you," she said.

Now she sounded like Lupin. Harry had wanted so much to believe him, just as he wanted to believe Jillian now; but no one had been able to tell him what was happening to him.

"People keep telling me that, but something feels wrong. I am literally ready to crawl out of my skin right now; and it's not the first time I've felt this way. I don't feel normal. And trust me -- lately, normal for me is unusual even on a good day."

"I understand," she said.

"Really? Then would you mind letting me in on it, because I sure as hell don't," he said bitingly.

Jillian closed her eyes and took a slow breath of her own and Harry knew he was probably close to testing her own patience, but he didn't really care at that moment.

When she opened them, she gazed so intently at him that Harry thought she might actually be reading his thoughts. Harry tried to steady himself for whatever was coming next.

"Nearly all of the world's witches and wizards, from the least skilled to the most talented, are dependent upon their wands to perform most every kind of magic," began Jillian.

"Young witches and wizards may exhibit signs of magical ability early on and be able to perform small feats, like moving a cup across a table. Sometimes, under great duress, one may even be able to perform an unusual bit of magic, but it is usually an isolated incident."

Harry thought again about the time his hair had grown back overnight after Aunt Petunia had nearly sheared him bald.

"There exits, however, a very small number of witches and wizards who can readily perform wandless magic," she continued. "I do not believe there have been more than three or four born in each generation that can do so. It is an extraordinarily rare and powerful ability."

She paused and said slowly, "And you, Harry, have that ability."

Harry was shaking his head, almost imperceptibly. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear. No, she was mistaken. It was impossible. He opened his mouth to protect verbally, but she stopped him.

"Let's see if I remember everything I've been told," she said, running down a mental checklist. "You made a plate glass window vanish at the zoo; you inflated your aunt and broke open a bolted cupboard door; and you managed to illuminate your lost wand during a dementor attack."

"How do you know about those things?" he managed to ask, with his head starting to throb.

"They were included in the message from Dumbledore," she said, "and Kingsley was able to confirm some of it. More recently though, you knocked a fully grown wizard to the floor; and if what I believe is true, you came fairly close to starting a thunder storm in the middle of Godric's Hollow."

"But I don't know how I did any of those things; and there's no way I had anything to do with storm clouds. No, this is ridiculous," he said, hearing the strain in his own voice.

"Harry, you were a Parselmouth long before you even knew what it meant. Why is it so hard to believe you have other gifts?"

"I'm a Parselmouth because Voldemort is one," he said irritably.

Jillian watched him closely and then said, "Oh, I see. And is there some reason you believe Voldemort possesses this ability, as well?"

"I know he was able to do some rather unusual things long before he learned he was a wizard and came to Hogwarts," he said.

"Think back, please. In your encounters with him, have you ever seen him do anything without his wand?"

"Definitely not the night he returned in that graveyard. But I don't know about the battle at the Ministry. Everything happened so quickly, and he and Dumbledore were dueling; but I can't say for certain. Sorry, but I don't like thinking about either of those nights."

"I imagine you wouldn't," she said very quietly and with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Jillian?" said Harry, when she remained silent.

She seemed to refocus immediately.

"Harry, I'm pretty sure you'd recall if you'd witnessed it, especially in someone that powerful. But really, it doesn't matter. You may very well be a Parselmouth because of that failed curse; but this particular ability is as unique as the individuals who possess it.

"How so?" he asked.

"It just is; much as you are as uniquely different from Ron as he is from any of his siblings. It manifests differently in each person. Dumbledore began to suspect your true ability after the incident with your aunt, and believed it would reveal itself fully as your seventeenth birthday neared. He was watching very closely. And he was correct."

Harry was still unwilling to accept what he was hearing.

"Take my hand," she said.

"Please, no more games, Jillian," he implored.

"Take my hand," she said again.

Sighing, Harry reached across and placed his hand in hers. Waves of heat pulsated between their palms. He pulled his hand back and met her gaze.

"I know what you are feeling because I feel it, as well," she said. "I share the same gift."

Harry was stunned. Then the questions began running through his head.

"Is that why Dumbledore sought you out two years ago?" he asked.

"Yes. Obviously, he was in need of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; but there was also this," she said, and with an effortless wave of her empty right hand, her desk levitated several feet from the floor and spun around like a top.

"Dumbledore could cast wandless spells," said Harry quietly, as he searched his memories. "He didn't do it often, at least not in front of us."

"Yes, I know. Who do you think helped me?" she said, returning the desk to the floor. "Our holiday visits were multi-purposed."

"You would have been really young during those visits," said Harry, some of his doubts slowly receding and his curiosity taking over.

"Well, my ability was more than obvious by the time I was nine years old. Dumbledore was the only person my father would trust to instruct me during my earlier years. It wasn't long though before it became clear that my ability, in this particular area, was even stronger than his own. Dumbledore didn't just teach me to use this particular ability; he taught me to control it. I attended a school very much like this one; and with the exception of a few teachers and some close friends, my peers never knew I was a little different."

"And you still keep it a secret, now?" he asked.

"Well, I don't go around shouting it from the roof tops," she said. "Probably for the same reasons Dumbledore didn't. It would attract a lot of attention, and not all of it innocent. As I said, it is a powerful ability."

"I get more than enough attention already," he said. "I don't want anymore."

"I'm sure that's an understatement," she said kindly.

Finally allowing himself to believe all that she'd told him, he said, "I hate feeling like I'm on a roller coaster. I don't know when it's going to happen or why."

"I believe, as did Dumbledore, that your flashes of ability have all been tied to your emotions."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. What were you feeling when the glass vanished at the zoo?" she asked.

"I wanted to strangle my cousin. He'd just punched me really hard in the ribs."

"And when you inflated your aunt?" she prompted.

"She'd said some horrible things about my parents and she wouldn't shut up," he recalled, still irritated by that particular memory.

Jillian gave a soft laugh and tried one other, "And what about Mr. Fletcher set you off," she asked?

"He'd stolen things from my godfather's house after he died," he said flatly. "There's no excuse for stealing from your friends."

Jillian looked a bit taken aback, but she didn't say anything else. She watched Harry processing everything.

"But if my emotions triggered these incidents, then why wasn't I able to do anything the night Cedric was killed? They'd taken my wand and tied me to a gravestone. I was completely helpless," he recalled uneasily.

"Your ability hadn't surfaced with any consistency. More to the point, I suspect you were in shock after seeing a fellow student cut down right in front of you. Grief can also cloud one's abilities."

"Can you teach me to control it?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, if you let me," she answered earnestly.

Harry decided to follow his instincts. He already liked her, and he did finally believe her. Now, he'd have to trust her.

He extended his right hand and she took it in her own, heat radiating once again from their connected palms. Jillian lowered her lids and within seconds and to Harry's continued amazement, every odd sensation he'd been experiencing completely dissipated.

"Shall we begin?" she asked, her warm brown eyes now seeming to light from within.

There was only one thing left to say.

"Yes," he replied, feeling as though a bit of the massive puzzle might actually be falling into place.

A few hours later, Harry was nearing the end of another session with DeSousa and it wouldn't arrive fast enough. Had he not been so distracted by everything he'd leaned from Jillian earlier, he'd probably be fairing a lot better. As it was, he'd already been clipped on the jaw once and now his left bicep was throbbing from a blow he'd failed to see coming in time to block.

"What's the matter, Harry?" asked DeSousa, stopping to look at him more closely. "Your focus seems off today."

"Sorry, Andre," answered Harry. "It's been a rough day."

"We can end for the day," he said, "but I want you back here next week ready to go. If you keep losing your focus and concentration, then nothing I teach you in here will be of any use."

"Funny, that seems to be an ongoing theme of late," remarked Harry.

"Anything I can do help?" asked the Order member.

"No, but thanks anyway," said Harry. "Don't worry; I'll be ready."

After a hot shower and a quick check of his many bruises, Harry headed to the seventh floor and along the corridor to Gryffindor Tower. He entered and was nearly knocked backward when Ron and Hermione practically pounced on him.

A few heads had turned in their direction.

"Where have you been?" asked Hermione in an annoyed whisper.

"What are you talking about? I've been in class," he said quietly.

"No one's seen you since this morning's Defense class," said Ron, making sure to keep his voice down, "And you didn't show up at lunch today."

"Oh, I worked through lunch with Professor Grayson," he answered honestly.

"Yeah, well, I kind of thought that might be the case, but I got a little worried when I couldn't find her after lunch."

"Then after I finished my last class," said Hermione, "Ron and I went downstairs to meet you after yours, but no one ever came out of the room and the door was locked."

Now, Harry understood why they'd been concerned.

Several students were still eying them.

"Well, I don't know why you couldn't find Professor Grayson. She was still in her classroom when I left just before two o'clock," he said. "And my last class ended early, so that's why you missed us."

"Oh, okay," said Ron. "Sorry, we just thought something might have happened."

"You're not completely wrong," said Harry so quietly they practically had to read his lips.

They were staring at him.

"I'm going to go put my things away. We've got a little time before dinner. Let's go and see if Hagrid is around," he said in ruse.

He did take his things upstairs and once back in the common room, led the way from the portrait hole and down the staircase to the foyer and out the front doors. This time, Kipling was standing sentry.

He nodded at the three of them, but gave no other indication that he knew them to be anything other than students.

At the bottom of the castle steps, Ron and Hermione turned towards Hagrids's cabin; but Harry stopped them.

"No, this way, come with me," he said, heading off in the opposite direction, figuring Kipling would know where he was headed.

"Harry, where are we going? What's wrong?" asked Hermione.

"We're going to the Quidditch pitch," he said.

It was as empty as it had been when he visited it last week with Ginny, and it's exactly what Harry needed. He couldn't have this conversation anywhere in the castle. He walked across the grass and positioned himself so he had a clear view of either entrance from the changing rooms. Satisfied, he sat down and waited for Ron and Hermione to join him.

They sat side by side, across for him, each looking worried.

Hermione leaned forward and reached for the underside of his jaw with the pad of her thumb, and Harry winced as her touch found the tender spot of his bruise.

"Harry, what happened to you?" she asked with growing concern.

"It's nothing. It was my fault. I wasn't paying attention and DeSousa got in a really good shot," he said truthfully. "I was distracted."

"By what?" asked Ron.

"I have something to tell you," he began.

"And it required us coming all the way out here?" asked Ron again.

"Yep," answered Harry and he could see even more alarm in their gazes. He took a deep breath and began.

They sat fully transfixed and listened to him as he shared every moment of his encounter with Jillian that afternoon. Hermione gasped and reached for Ron's arm when Harry got to the part about the thrown dagger; and Ron had clenched his hands into fists.

Harry pressed on, needing to say all of it before they interrupted him. He watched the color drain from both their faces as he got to the heart of the matter and revealed this newest and shocking truth. He held nothing back, sharing everything he'd felt during those moments; and revealing Jillian's secret, along with his own.

By the time he finished, he realized he was staring at a blade of grass. He was nervous about their reactions. What would they think? When too many silent moments had passed, Harry raised his gaze and locked onto theirs. It was hard to say whose eyes had widened more, Hermione's or Ron's.

Finally, "And those things that happened—you know—with your aunt and Mundungus, those weren't isolated incidences?" asked Ron slowly.

Harry shook his head. Great, he'd really thrown his two best friends for a loop. They'd stood by Harry, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, all these years. This however, was probably too much.

"OH MY GOSH! THIS IS THE COOLEST CRAP I'VE EVER HEARD!!" Ron suddenly yelled, looking at Harry with excitement returning color to his face.

Hermione, forever more dignified, took a different approach. She crawled next to Harry and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, relief washing over him. She pushed back from him and looked at him closely.

"Are you all right?" she asked sincerely.

He looked from her to a grinning Ron and answered truthfully, "I am now."

"It seems so obvious now. How could we not have seen it?" asked Ron.

"Because it's such a rare ability, no one would ever consider it a possibility," answered Hermione. "It's even rarer than Parselmouths, Animagi and Metamorphmagi."

"Wow, Harry, you're going to need a new nickname," chided Ron. "How about the Wandless One?"

Harry laughed and said, "Keep it up. It'll be the Ronless One."

"This really is incredible, Harry," said Hermione.

"I bet old Snakeface won't see this coming," said Ron.

"I don't know how much it will matter. He's still more dangerous than ever. If those remaining Horcruxes aren't found and destroyed, all the magic in the world, wandless or not, won't do a bit of good."

"Are we still set for Saturday?" asked Ron.

"Yes," answered Hermione. "I'm interviewing Professor Sprout in her office at ten o'clock. She's slotted me two hours, so you should be able to get in and out of the greenhouses without being spotted."

"Great," Harry said and looked at his watch. "Come on; let's get back before we completely miss dinner."

The trio walked off the pitch and across the grounds, the last of the sun slowly giving way to darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry was just about to knock on Professor Slughorn's door for his lesson on Friday morning when the door opened inward and out walked Ginny. She was backing out of the room, saying goodbye to Professor Slughorn and hadn't noticed Harry. That is until she bumped against him and Harry had to grab her shoulders to prevent her from moving anymore and sending them both sprawling. She looked over her shoulder at him, and stepped forward to allow herself to turn around and face him.

They hadn't spoken properly since that afternoon last week at the Quidditch pitch. There'd been glances and small smiles during meals and the usual courtesies in the common room, but nothing else. Neither had searched out the other for anything more.

Harry knew that what he wanted and what he had to do were two completely different things. Still, it didn't stop his pulse from quickening as he stood this close to her. She was looking at him intently, her chin obstinate and her brow arched. He couldn't quite read her expression.

"Hi, Harry," she said. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Hi," he replied. "It's fine. How are you?"

"Would you like an honest answer, or just a polite one?" she replied with her expression still indiscernible.

Harry wanted to kick himself. Where was a Time-Turner when you really wanted one?

He was spared beating himself up when Slughorn interrupted them.

"Please come in, Harry," said Slughorn from inside the room. "Ms. Weasley, do let me know if you have any more questions."

"Thanks, Professor Slughorn. Bye, Harry," she said and stepped around him, heading down the corridor.

Harry sighed and walked into the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

He put his bag down, and looked up to find Slughorn grinning at him.

He chuckled and said, "Mr. Potter, you might want to try harder to keep those thoughts to yourself?"

Harry frowned. If Slughorn was already in his head and Harry hadn't even noticed, then this was going to go even worse than the lessons with Snape two years ago.

"Don't worry, I wasn't using Legilimency. I was simply reading the expression on your face," he said.

That didn't make Harry feel any better. Exactly how transparent was he?

"Let's begin, shall we," continued Slughorn, "I want you to close your eyes and focus in on a memory, any memory at all. Let me know when you are ready."

Harry closed his eyes and thought about the night he first met Hagrid, inside the cold and dilapidated cabin in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm ready, Professor," he said.

"We shall start slowly, so try to relax. Let the memory flow and replay in your mind. You may or may not feel a slight nudge. If you do, please resist the urge to fight it, for now," said Slughorn, pulling out his own wand and flicking it silently.

Harry waited, and then, he did feel something. It was like a tiny fissure had been opened in the space occupying his thoughts. He flinched, but otherwise didn't move.

"_Oh my, this is indeed interesting,"_ came Slughorn's voice, but it wasn't from inside the room. Harry could hear his voice in his own head. Snape had never done that.

Harry led the memory flow as clearly as the night it happened.

"_I find it hard to believe that woman was in anyway related to Lily Evans_," said Slughorn as he heard the diatribe Aunt Petunia launched about Harry's mother.

"_Good show, Hagrid,"_ he said when he saw Dudley grow a pig's tail.

And then, the fissure seemed to close and Harry knew Slughorn was no longer in his mind.

"Feel okay, so far, Harry?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," he answered.

"Good. Now, I want you to choose another memory. When you have it, I want you to envision dropping the entire scene onto a stage, like a play. And this time, when you feel me enter, I want you to image closing the curtain on the production."

"Okay," said Harry hesitantly, but he did as instructed.

This time, he chose to recall the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff in his third year. Again, he knew exactly when Slughorn had entered his mind. Harry let the scene play out until he spotted the first dementor, and then just as Slughorn directed, he imagined pulling a black curtain down on the scene. He felt the same fissure closing once more.

"Well done, Harry. My, that must have been a frightening experience. Now then…What's wrong?" he asked as he saw Harry's perplexed expression.

"Professor, don't I need to do more to block Legilimency, like defensive spells or something?" asked Harry.

"Well, if the attempt is really strong or more than one wizard is trying to invade your mind, then certainly, use whatever means you can to break their concentration and hold. However, those most accomplished in Legilimency or Occlumency have exceptional powers of control and focus. It truly is more about a strong mind than a strong wand hand."

This wasn't how Snape tried to teach him Occlumency.

"As we progress and start incorporating distractions and movement into your lessons, you may find it necessary to use other spells or means to throw me off; but the goal is to minimize the need for such options. But you needn't worry about that now. No one in his right mind would start introductory Occlumency that way. It's too invasive and often times painful. It'd be like throwing someone into an ocean to learn to swim."

Well that explained it. Snape had wanted to make Harry as uncomfortable as possible and he had succeeded. He'd had splitting headaches after almost every lesson.

"Professor Slughorn," started Harry again, "I could hear your voice in my head. Is that normal?"

"Well, I was projecting my own thoughts to you. If wizards are accomplished in both skills, then they can be used in tandem to communicate privately," explained Slughorn. "The trick is to learn to block out everyone else, except the one to which you wish to communicate. It's an advanced skill and not everyone can master it. It requires a great deal of diligence and practice."

"Dumbledore said you were one of the most accomplished," offered Harry.

Slughorn flushed slightly and said, "That's quite a compliment. I'll consider it earned when I've fulfilled my duties to him by teaching you. I am sorry if I seemed less than enthusiastic before…"

"It's all right, Professor," said Harry. "To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to it when I realized it was Occlumency."

"Why not?" asked Slughorn.

"Bad experience," answered Harry. "But today was actually okay."

"I'm glad to hear it," replied Slughorn. "Now then, for next week, I want you to practice different ways of shutting things from your mind. The curtain trick worked for you today, but it was merely a suggestion. Try imaging a door slamming or a light going out—things such as that. You'll know when you find what suits you best."

"Yes, Professor," said Harry and the bell rang to end his lesson.

Harry and his classmates had two more productive and enjoyable Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. There was no doubt; Tonks and Jillian were both extremely competent teachers. If they ever tired of being Aurors, they'd definitely have second career options.

By the time Harry rounded the first floor corridor, he found Firenze waiting for him.

"Hello, Harry Potter," said the centaur.

"Hi, Firenze," replied Harry. "Are we going outdoors again?"

"Yes, follow me, please," said Firenze, leading the way past Kipling, who seemed to have drawn sentry duty for the main entrance this week.

This time, Harry found they were headed to the Black Lake, very near his favorite spot.

Firenze motioned for him to sit and Harry did so. The centaur was eying him intently.

"You seem calmer today. That is good," he said. "Close your eyes, please, and breathe in and out as slowly as possible."

Harry did so for what seemed like a long time and he was beginning to think Firenze had somehow silently slipped away when the centaur spoke.

"Keep your eyes closed and tell me everything you hear."

For the next thirty minutes, Harry described every odd sound he could pick up. With each attempt, he heard something new. On his last attempt, he surprised himself.

"Is the giant squid surfacing?" asked Harry.

"What makes you ask?" inquired Firenze.

"I'm not sure. The ripples in the water sound different, larger somehow," he said.

"Open your eyes," said Firenze.

Harry did and he could see the squid moving back and forth more than half way across the lake.

"Silence speaks volumes, Harry Potter. Remember that," said Firenze, nodding at Harry and turning to trot away.


	18. Chapter 18: Sweeter Than Candy

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: SWEETER THAN CANDY

Saturday's search of the greenhouses failed to turn up anything even remotely resembling Hufflepuff's cup. Harry and Ron found any number of old watering cans and gardening tools, the likes of which neither of them had every seen. They'd checked every inch and had nothing to show for it, except the dirt and grime with which they'd managed to cover themselves.

Tired and hungry, and a little disappointed, they made their way back to the castle, treading along side corridors and back passages until they reached the Prefects' bathroom. Satisfied that they no longer looked like they'd been digging for treasure, they returned downstairs to the Great Hall for a late lunch.

Hermione was seated near the far end of the Gryffindor table. She had a good number of books strewn nearby, effectively deterring anyone else from sitting next to or across from her. Harry and Ron passed Ginny and Colin, who were seated midway along the long table with Seamus, Dean, Lavender and Neville. Ginny and Harry's eyes met only briefly before she looked away and turned her attention back to her friends. Harry noticed the others exchanging meaningful glances as he waved hello and walked on with Ron.

So, they all finally knew that Harry and Ginny had split up. He'd known it would only be a matter of time, and truth be told, he'd been counting on it. It wouldn't be long before the whole school knew; and where Harry was concerned, that usually meant the news would eventually spill outside. Still, he hated the awkwardness that hung between them. He should never have ventured off alone with her last week. They were in an okay place before that. It wasn't perfect, but it had been comfortable. Now, Harry felt like he'd hurt her, when all he wanted to do was keep her safe. He absentmindedly tugged at the silver chain and charm beneath his shirt.

He and Ron dropped into seats across from Hermione and she looked up, eyes questioning. Harry shook his head as Ron reached for a pitcher to pour chilled pumpkin juice for each of them.

Harry discreetly pulled his wand, silently casting "Muffliato."

"Well, you've still got other options, right?" she said quietly.

"Yeah," answered Harry. "I'll ask Dobby to give us a hand with round three."

Ron had already managed to stuff a boiled potato into his mouth and was nodding at both of them to indicate he understood they'd be tackling the kitchens next in their search.

"How'd it go with Professor Sprout," asked Harry, looking over the books in front of them and realizing many were the same ones he'd gone through last month.

"Well, I couldn't exactly tell her you'd read these," she said, following Harry's gaze to the book titles. "She had lots of stories, some of them fascinating; but I'm not sure they'll give you any new ideas on your search."

"Thanks for trying," he replied.

"Hold on, I said I didn't think it would give you any new ideas," she said again, her dark eyes dancing. "But I did manage to find out more about the location of a certain Welsh home."

"You're kidding," said Harry, holding his breath.

""No, I'm not. Professor Sprout has even visited it, herself," she said. "I'll add everything to our notes and let you judge for yourself."

"Okay," he said, reaching to fill his own plate, with his spirits a little higher than when he'd entered.

If the search of the kitchens turned up nothing, he'd have to contact Moody about a little field trip, but at least he'd know where he was going.

The mail arrived a half hour later and Hedwig dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of Harry. He was reading about some Ministry official who'd gone missing days ago. The same article also mentioned the still unsolved disappearance of Mr. Ollivander, and Harry silently hoped he'd left of his own accord.

"They' didn't," said Ron suddenly, reading a letter than Pig had delivered behind Hedwig. "They couldn't have."

"What?" said Harry and Hermione together, alarmed that something bad had happened.

He held up a hand for them to wait as he gaped and continued reading the letter. When he was done, he gave it to Harry, adding, "Something tells me this was meant for you, too."

Harry took the letter and read:

G_reetings Little Brother,_

_We hope this letter finds you teetering on madness from sheer boredom. The Ministry has been spouting assurances that the school is now even more secure than Azkaban ever was. Pity, that can only mean you have absolutely nothing better to do than study. Oh wait, there are always Prefect duties._

And speaking of…A little bird tells us that your best friend has joined the ranks as none other than Head Boy. It's an absolute outrage. We are only comforted by the fact that Percy has probably heard the news, as well. What are we to think?

_In any case, we thought you'd be interested in knowing that we are expanding our base of operation and are now the proud proprietors of Honeydukes. That's right, we said Honeydukes. The Flumes decided it was an ideal time to retire and we couldn't pass up such an incredible deal. _

_We've got lots of plans for renovating, starting with that storeroom in the cellar. It's much too small for the volume of new goods we're adding, so we're thinking of moving inventory to the upstairs quarters. Looks like we'll have to send you and Ginny pictures and samples though, because you probably won't be seeing past the winged boars for quite a while. _

_Give our best to Ginny._

_Fred & George_

Harry handed the letter across to Hermione without looking up. He was remembering the note tucked into his birthday gift from the twins. Well, this certainly qualified as a more serious item. He wondered what else they were planning.

Hermione finished reading and the trio glanced from one to the other. They'd all come to the same conclusion. That little mention of the cellar in Honeydukes was a clear cut message from the twins. Fred and George had provided a secure passageway from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade.

Then Harry remembered that Dumbledore had cautioned him against using it to exit the castle alone. He would do his best to abide by Dumbledore's wishes; but Harry had another plan forming in his head.

"They never cease to amaze me," said Hermione.

"Yeah, get in line," said Ron.

"They're brilliant," said Harry quietly as he stood up to leave. "Meet me in the Transfiguration classroom in ten minutes."

He was thinking and pacing near the front of the room, watching the doorway as they entered.

Hermione closed the door and sealed the room.

"What are you plotting," asked Hermione, eying Harry suspiciously.

He smirked and said, "I think it's a good time for a D.A. meeting. Can you two start spreading the word?"

"Sure," said Ron. "When?"

"Let's meet tonight, around seven."

"Are we using the Room of Requirement?" asked Hermione.

"It's as good a place as any. See if you can get the other Prefects to join us," added Harry.

"Including the Slytherins?" asked Ron, making a sour face.

"Well, you heard what the Sorting Hat said," interjected Hermione.

"It's too risky," Harry said after giving it some thought. "The Slytherin Prefects are definitely not fans of mine. Pansy would just welcome the chance to try an Unforgivable Curse on me. Besides, McGonagall didn't alter our shared classes to the Hufflepuffs instead of the Slytherins for no reason."

"Okay, so we see who shows up for a D.A. meeting tonight," said Ron. "Then what?"

"Then we start by running the D.A. just like the last time," said Harry. "We shouldn't need to meet more than once a week. Jillian's an excellent teacher, and I'll probably only be reviewing or previewing a lot of what she's planning to cover, anyway."

"So why do it?" asked Ron. "You weren't all that certain when Neville and Luna brought it up weeks ago."

"Because we," he said, using his hands to indicate the three of them, "also need to come up with an escape plan for the school. Fred and George already provided the means; we just need to work out the rest. And reviving the D.A. is the perfect way to get all the others working together."

"You're serious," said Hermione.

"Yeah, I am. The Order and the Ministry have done everything they can to secure Hogwarts. I hope it's enough; but on the off chance it isn't, there will be hundreds of students at risk."

"Harry, we were all stunned when the Death Eaters got in last year. But what are the odds of that happening again?" asked Hermione.

"What were the odds of it happening the first time?" asked Ron, starting to see Harry's point.

"Look, I hope this turns out to be completely unnecessary. But think about it," said Harry. "The best way to get to the school – or to me, if I'm still here – is to divide the attention of the Ministry and the Order. If Voldemort causes enough mayhem elsewhere, he could weaken security here. I'd rather not have a castle full of sitting ducks."

"Okay, so it won't hurt to have a backup plan. But if, as you just tried to slip by, you aren't here or we aren't here," said Ron, emphasizing '_we_,' "then who's going to know about the tunnel? You can't tell everyone. It'll be chaos."

"I'd already worked that out," said Harry.

"And we can also work out ways for D.A. members to get groups of students to the third floor corridor. They can use some of the hidden or lesser known passageways and other corridors," said Hermione, her brow furrowed in concentration. "But…"

"I know," interrupted Harry. "There's probably no way to get everyone out, but it's better than doing nothing."

"And who's going to open and close the passageway beneath the One-Eyed Witch?" asked Ron again.

Harry raised an eyebrow and said simply, "Neville and Luna."

Ron's jaw dropped for a second, but then he smiled and said, "Perfect."

"I think so, too," said Hermione. "But what about Ginny?"

Harry frowned and Ron looked uncertain.

"You two cannot keep her out of everything, no matter the reason. If you recall, Ginny was with us in the Ministry battle and again last year when the school was attacked."

They remembered, but Harry and Ron still looked unconvinced.

"If you shut her out of this, too, you'll only make things worse," she said pointedly to Harry.

She'd struck a nerve and knew it.

"Fine," he said, slightly annoyed. "We'll tell Neville, Luna and Ginny. If we're lucky, then I'm overreacting and none of this will even be necessary."

"You're not overreacting," said Hermione. "Necessary or not, it's a good idea."

"What about Tonks and Jillian?" offered up Ron.

"We can think about that later. Once Lupin finds out the twins bought Honeydukes, he'll know what it means. I'll be surprised if we don't hear from him or Moody before long."

"All right, we'll go spread the word," said Ron. "See you at dinner."

Harry had a few hours to himself and he went upstairs to retrieve the Gringotts letter from his trunk, putting it in his bag along with extra parchment and envelopes. Not wanting to be interrupted, he bypassed the common room and headed out the portrait hole and back to the empty Transfiguration classroom.

Resisting the urge to pull his wand, he focused his attention on the door and willed it to close. At first nothing happened, but then it seemed to shut firmly on its own. Harry was still floored that he could do any such thing.

In many ways, he felt like a first-year student all over again. He'd spent yesterday's lunch hour with Jillian again, just going over the simplest of spells and charms. Starting with the easier spells would allow him to work on focusing and controlling his ability without draining him or leaving him with the creepy feeling he'd been experiencing since the summer. Jillian assured him that feeling would lessen as he gained control of his ability.

He moved to the same desk he used in class and pulled the letter from his bag once more. He read through it again, including the copy of his parents' will. He was drawn to their signatures, realizing he'd never seen either of them before. He smiled when he noted that his own penmanship closely resembled that of his mother's.

Since the morning of his birthday, he had managed to give some more thought to the unexpected fortune that he'd inherited. He'd been left with more than enough for one lifetime and he'd been contemplating what to do with it. He extracted parchment, quill and ink from his bag and set to writing out two rather long documents.

It took Harry quite a while to finish and review both sets. When he was satisfied, he folded them and sealed each in separate envelopes. He took more parchment and wrote a shorter letter and put that one in a larger envelope, sealing the other two inside, as well. He addressed it to:

_Mr. Bill Weasley_

_Gringotts Wizarding Bank_

_Diagon Alley_

According to Ron, Bill and Fleur had returned from France and joined the others at Grimmauld Place earlier in the week. Bill was due back at work on Monday. Harry would have Hedwig messenger the package to Gringotts. He couldn't risk sending her anywhere near Grimmauld Place. Not only did he not want the Death Eaters spotting her near headquarters, he didn't want the others wondering about what he'd sent to Bill. Harry knew Bill would do as he'd outlined, no questions asked.

Glad to have finally accomplished something, he put everything back in his bag. This time, he did pull his wand and used a silent banishing charm to send his things to his four-poster in the dormitory. He glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was already a little past five o'clock.

Harry joined Hermione and Ron in the Great Hall once more. A number of students at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables watched him as he crossed the room, and Neville and Dean nodded discreetly as he made his way past them at the Gryffindor table. This time, he sat beside Hermione and looked across the table at Ron.

"It's all set," said Ron quietly.

"Okay, thanks," he said and turned to see McGonagall also watching him from the staff table.

Harry finished dinner, leaving well before the others and making his way quietly to the seventh floor corridor, pacing the required three times to reveal what he needed, a room in which to hold a D.A. meeting.

It revealed itself to be almost exactly as it had been when they'd last used it almost two years ago. There was a shelf with a variety of books on Defensive spells and a number of Dark Detectors, including a large Sneakoscope. Instead of pillows, there were dozens of mats like the ones he used in lessons with DeSousa. He spaced the mats out around the room and placed the Sneakoscope near the doorway.

Harry hadn't made up his mind on what they'd be starting with today. He'd wait to see who showed up and go from there.

He didn't have to wait very long. A knock echoed across the room and the door opened. Ron was standing aside, admitting the first group of students. Luna was among them, her enthusiasm to be back with the D.A. apparent in her large eyes.

"Hi, Harry," she said, standing next to another sixth year Ravenclaw that Harry did not know by name.

"Hi, Luna," he said, smiling at his eccentric friend.

"Hello, Harry," came another voice and he looked up to see Romilda Vane and a couple of her friends.

She was looking at Harry with the same bold stare and stance she'd practically stalked him with last year. He'd managed to avoid her up until now and hadn't realized she was one of the new fifth-year Prefects. He'd been neglecting his Head Boy duties these first few weeks. Perhaps he should have given Ron and Hermione a list of people, besides the Slytherins, not to invite.

"Hi, Romilda. Why don't you go wait over there until we're ready to start," he said, indicating the far wall.

"No problem," she said and walked confidently across the room with her friends trailing behind and ogling Harry.

Harry glanced towards the doorway and caught Ron trying to bite back a grin. Harry turned his attention back to Luna and waved her over to him. She said something to the girl who'd come with her and then came to stand beside him.

"Can you hang around for a bit, afterwards?" he asked her.

"Sure, Harry," she said.

"Would you mind asking Neville and Ginny to stay, also?" he added. "I'm not sure I'll be able to get to them before it gets too busy in here."

"Okay," she said.

Seamus, Neville, Lavender and Dean eventually arrived with Ernie and Michael Corner; and Ginny came in shortly afterwards with Colin and Dennis Creevey. Roughly five minutes later, both Ron and Hermione entered behind the last wave of students. It appeared everyone was present. Harry looked around and was pleased to see that nearly every remaining member of the original D.A. had returned. With the addition of the fifth-year Prefects, and several other new faces, there were twenty-five people watching him.

Hermione joined him and handed him a new roster and a quill. He knew she'd taken the same precautions as before. Knowing Hermione, she'd made the penalty even steeper this time. Umbridge wasn't here to torture them, but they didn't want anyone from the outside finding out what they were doing. They'd discussed it during dinner, and each person who wanted in had to agree and pledge not to discuss the D.A. with anyone who wasn't a member. He scrawled his own signature across the bottom and gave it back to her.

"Thanks for coming, everyone." he began. "And welcome back to most of you. Umh, for the benefit of new members, I guess I should talk about why we are here and what we're going to be doing."

"Head Girl Granger already lectured us before we signed up," said one of Romilda's silly friends, giggling at her own comment.

"Then I really hope you paid close attention," said Harry, without a trace of humor in his own voice and his eyes deadly serious.

Ginny coughed to cover up a laugh and looked fleetingly at Harry.

"Let's try this another way," he said calmly. "Does anyone have any questions about why we are hear?"

Twenty-five heads shook that they did not.

"Okay, then," said Harry. "It's been a while and I'm not in class with most of you. Does anyone have something in particular they'd like to work on today?"

A small voice from somewhere in the back said something, but it was lost in the cavernous room.

"Sorry?" said Harry.

Some people shifted to reveal a small boy from Ravenclaw. He was standing next to Dennis Creevey, who was nudging him in the side and he spoke up again.

"I'm having loads of trouble with the Shield Charm, sir," he repeated so Harry could finally hear him.

"What's your name?" asked Harry.

"I'm William Tanner, sir," he answered. "I'm a third-year."

"Hi, William. It's nice to meet you," said Harry pleasantly. "And you can call me Harry. Everyone else does."

William's eyes widened to the size of saucers and several people laughed lightly. Ron looked at Harry and gave an amused shrug.

"Is Professor Grayson teaching you the Shield Charm, already?" asked Harry.

"No, not yet. Professor Snape started it with the second-years last term and it was awful," he said.

Harry knew the kid probably wasn't exaggerating.

"Well, I'm sure Professor Grayson will get to it again this year, but let's see if we can give you a head start. In fact, I bet you're not the only person in this room who could use a little help with it. There are a lot of adult wizards who can't do it, but I think I can help you out."

William smiled and looked over at Dennis Creevey, who gave him a look that clearly said, "I told you so."

"All right, everyone," called Harry to the assembled group. "Pair off at any of the mats around the room. Whoever is casting first, please only use a Disarming or Freezing Charm against your partner. Sixth and seventh-years, verbally this time, please. I'll signal when it is time to switch off. William, you're with me."

William looked up at him and dropped his wand. This time, Ron nearly wept with the effort to keep from laughing aloud.

Harry hadn't been wrong about William not being the only person needing help with the Shield Charm. Harry had turned William into a living statue about ten times, but the kid finally cast _"Protego_" with enough force to stop his last spell. Even some of the original D.A. members were rusty. After about fifteen minutes of some truly comical mishaps, Harry signaled that it was time to switch.

He walked William over to Ron and Hermione, knowing they'd take care of their youngest member. He made a complete circuit of the room, correcting and making suggestions where necessary.

To his surprise, he found Romilda to be a quick study. He expected her to be as silly as she'd been last year at Quidditch tryouts; but she seemed to have settled on a more mature approach to get Harry's attention. It did, just not in the way she hoped. He was just glad to see that the newer Prefects were taking things seriously. He complimented her technique and moved on.

At ten minutes before eight, Harry signaled for the end of class. Everyone agreed that seven o'clock on Saturdays worked well and he, Ron and Hermione watched as the others slowly trickled out.

When only Neville, Ginny and Luna remained, Ron closed the door once more.

The trio quickly explained what they wanted to accomplish. Neville, Ginny and Luna all agreed that it was a good idea. Harry explained that they would be the only other people who would know where and how to access the tunnel to Hogsmeade.

"We won't tell anyone, Harry," promised Neville.

"I know, Neville. That's why we picked you."

"Once we work out paths to the third floor corridor from various locations of the castle, we'll share those with the other D.A. members. All they'll know is that in the event of an attack, they are to get as many students as possible to the designated corridor," explained Hermione.

"It'll be up to you three to steer them the rest of the way and into the passageway," added Ron.

"And where exactly are you three going to be?" asked Ginny, finally looking at Harry for more than a few seconds.

"Hopefully here to help out," said Harry earnestly. "But if we're not, we need to know this can still work."

"Are there any vampires in the tunnel?" asked Luna in that way that made one question whether or not she was serious. Harry knew she was.

"No, Luna, there aren't," he said.

"Okay, then," she answered, Harry having apparently assuaged her only real concern.

"Harry," said Hermione, looking at her watch, "it's almost curfew."

"Right," said Harry. "Before next week's meeting, we will show each of you where the access point is and how to open it."

"Okay," they said together.

They all exited the room together and walked quietly along the corridor. Luna soon turned off and headed west along another corridor that would take her to Ravenclaw Tower.

The Gryffindor common room was packed with people trying to find ways to occupy a Saturday night. Some were sprawled on the couches and floors, reading. Others were engaged in games of chess and Exploding Snap. There was even a Gobstones contest growing in a far corner; and Dean, Seamus and Lavender were gathered around watching it.

"Let's go upstairs," said Ron to the others.

"You all go ahead. I think I'll hang out down here for a while," said Ginny, walking away from them and going to sit next to Lavender.

Neville was the first to head for the staircase, followed by Ron and Hermione, who looked over her shoulder at Harry, empathy in her expression.

The night wasn't ending exactly as Harry would have liked; but still, he couldn't deny he felt like they were putting something very important in motion. And that had to take priority over everything else. He'd face the fallout later.


	19. Chapter 19: One Step Forward

CHAPTER NINETEEN: ONE STEP FORWARD

Autumn was in full swing and it was a pleasantly cool, mid October Saturday afternoon. It was hard to believe the term had started eight weeks ago. Time seemed to be speeding by. Between classes, private lessons, D.A. meetings and the never-ending search for clues to the remaining Horcruxes, Harry had his hands full.

Tonks, Jillian, Firenze, DeSousa and Professors Slughorn and Flitwick were definitely putting him through his paces. One good thing was that because his private lessons were becoming more demanding, he was finding it easier to get through most of his regular N.E.W.T. classes. The work was still challenging. It just seemed that he was able to grasp class work much more quickly. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been his stand out subject; but he seemed to be thriving in the others, as well. Even Hermione commented on how good a student he really was when he put his mind to it. She was also quick to point out that she'd told him that years ago, as well; but it took a half dozen teachers brow beating him to focus and concentrate for him to see it for himself.

Potions was still his least favorite class. It had nothing to do with Professor Slughorn, but rather the Half Blood Prince's Potions book, which Harry stubbornly insisted on using. Hermione and Ron thought he was nuts, but he couldn't bring himself to get rid of the stupid thing. For the most part, Harry kept to the author's instructions and tried to avoid following Snape's scribbled alternate suggestions. This meant that he astounding Professor Slughorn less frequently than last year, but Harry didn't really care.

He was more interested in perusing the spells and curses that Snape had scribbled out in the textbook. There was no getting around it; Snape had been well ahead of his peers in that subject. Harry didn't dare try them out. He didn't want a repeat of last year's fiasco with Draco Malfoy. He was however, slowly committing each and every one of them to memory.

The D.A. members were thriving. With no visits to Hogsmeade or Quidditch games, everyone looked forward to filling at least one hour of each Saturday with something useful. They were all working really hard and Harry was proud of each and every one of them.

He, Ron and Hermione had mapped out circumspect routes to the third floor corridor from Gryffindor Tower, the Prefects' bathroom, the antechamber on the far side of the Great Hall, and the corridor leading from Slytherin House, which Harry and Ron had once infiltrated. Luna, Neville, and Ginny had done the same from Ravenclaw Tower, the library, and the corridor leading from the kitchens, which should take care of anyone coming from the direction of Hufflepuff House. The various classrooms were going to be the problem. There were too many to account for, and it would be up to the D.A. members to lead students to the safest and quickest routes.

Despite all the things that seemed to be going well, Harry was feeling really uneasy about the remaining Horcruxes. They seemed to be hitting a brick wall.

About once a week, Harry crept down to the kitchens after curfew to meet with Dobby. Harry had asked the elf to put aside any odd or old cup that he could find within the kitchens. It was a bigger task than he'd expected. The kitchens were large, and it seemed very little was ever thrown away. On each visit, Dobby had assembled an odd assortment of mismatched cups, glasses and chalices. And each time, the search had turned up nothing of significance.

On the other hand, Hermione's interview with Professor Flitwick about Rowena Ravenclaw had turned up lots of additional information. Unfortunately, it had also succeeded in lengthening the list of possible items that might have appealed to Voldemort. Hermione hadn't been wrong. Ravenclaw had indeed been the most multifaceted of the founders.

And even Ron's search for the elusive R.A.B. was getting frustrating. In between meeting with Dobby, Harry was pitching in to work on background research from some of the names on Ron's list. They'd gotten really excited when they started gathering information on a wizard called Randall Anthony Bick. He'd been a Slytherin, whose family had long dabbled in the Dark Arts. Their hopes were dashed however, when it was revealed that at the age of twenty, he'd severed ties with his family and run off with a Muggle woman.

Harry was meeting Dobby again tonight, and if nothing panned out, he'd have to contact Moody about getting him out of the castle and escorting him to Wales.

For now, Harry was on his way to visit Hagrid. He reached the cabin and knocked, but got no response. Then he heard a succession of thumps and realized Hagrid was out back. He walked around the cabin and found Hagrid breaking apart logs for firewood. Each swing of the ax cleaning severed a log in half. Hagrid hadn't heard him approach.

"Hi, Hagrid," said Harry.

"Harry," said Hagrid in slight surprise as he turned around. "When'd yeh get here?"

"Just now," said Harry and he caught the blur that was Fang barreling towards him from the rear of the giant pumpkin patch.

Satisfied that he'd sufficiently slobbered over Harry's clothes, the dog turned and ran back to continue doing whatever had been occupying his attention.

"Do you need help with that?" asked Harry, pointing towards the pile of logs.

"Nah, this is easy work for me," replied Hagrid. "Are yeh up for some archery work, today? It's been a while."

"Sorry about not coming around more," said Harry. "But yeah, I'd like that."

"Nonsense, I know yeh have lots keepin' yeh busy," said Hagrid. "Go ahead, all yer stuff is in the cabin and I've got plenty of extra arrows."

Harry went through the backdoor and found his bow and quiver sitting against a back wall. When he returned, Hagrid had the bull's eye target set up and waiting.

He'd almost forgotten how much he enjoyed this. He'd practiced maybe once or twice since term started, but it only took a few attempts until he found his rhythm again.

Harry heard a familiar sound in the distance and knew who it was.

He waited and called out, "Hi, Firenze."

Hagrid looked in the direction Harry now faced, but it was several seconds later before the centaur rounded the back of the cabin.

"Very good, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "Good afternoon, Hagrid."

"Firenze," said Hagrid, nodding and looking between Harry and the centaur. "I was just giving Harry some practice time."

"Yes, I can see that. May I?" he asked as he walked next to Harry, indicating the bow.

"Sure," said Harry, handing it over. "Hagrid made it for me."

The centaur inspected the bow carefully, balancing it on his palm, and then pulling it taut and testing its resistance.

"It's excellent work, Hagrid," said Firenze.

"Thank yeh," said Hagrid, obviously pleased to have gotten such high praise from a centaur.

"Continue," said Firenze to Harry, handing the bow back to him.

Harry did so and Firenze eventually touched him lightly on the shoulder to get him to stop. The centaur moved further out, picked up the target easel and carried it another twenty yards of so.

"Try it now, please," he said in his usual calm voice, galloping lightly back towards them.

"Er, Firenze…" started Hagrid, but the centaur ignored him.

"Go ahead, Harry Potter," he urged again.

Harry strung the bow, aimed and released the arrow. It sailed and struck the bull's eye, though well off the center mark.

"Again," said the centaur.

They did this over and over, until Harry hit the target's center multiple times.

"Yeh sure do have a knack for this, Harry," said Hagrid from several paces behind his left shoulder.

"Prepare another one," said Firenze, "but do not release it."

Harry complied and the centaur walked directly behind him, placing his right arm and hand against Harry's own and his left hand just beside Harry's left shoulder blade to guide him.

"Close your eyes," directed Firenze.

Harry hesitated for a moment, but did as asked.

"The bow should not feel like a tool. It should feel like an extension of your arm and hand. I imagine this is how wizards view their wands, yes?" he asked.

"Umh, yeah," said Harry. "That's a good way to describe it."

"When I moved the target, I placed it about five yards in front of a tree. Keep your eyes closed and tell me if you can describe the tree."

Hagrid coughed behind them and Harry understood why. They were surrounded by hundreds of trees and Harry had been focusing on the stupid bull's eye. He was about to give up when something suddenly occurred to him. It's as if he could see a filmed image beneath his closed lids.

He remembered the target and the last arrow he'd put through the center. He'd glanced up when the arrow hit home and remembered seeing a canopy of green leaves. That was it. All the other trees near it had leaves that had turned gold and orange, and most of them were at least half bare as their leaves littered the ground.

"It's still in bloom," said Harry. "It's the only one."

"Yes," said Firenze. "And I shall tell you one other thing. There is a knothole in the bark of the tree."

The centaur guided Harry's right arm, released him and said as he stepped back, "Keep your eyes closed. You are lined up center to the bull's eye and the tree behind it. See if you can remember how far up the tree the knothole is."

"Come on, Firenze," said Hagrid. "How can yeh expect him to do somethin' like that?"

"I only want him to try, Hagrid," said Firenze. "It's merely an exercise in concentration. I'm not …"

Harry didn't really hear anything else. Their voices became muffled background noise as he focused to remember more details of the tree. He'd missed the bull's eye target a couple of times and the arrows had sailed into the tree lines. At one point, he'd worried about hitting a squirrel that was scampering up the bark as his arrow whizzed by. The squirrel had scurried up and around the other side, past something dark and discolored. It was the knothole; and if he judged correctly, it was about three yards above the top of the bull's eye.

Harry took a deep breath, raised his bow arm on an angle and let the arrow sing through the air.

"I'll be a hippogriff's uncle," said Hagrid.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, blinking away spots and gazed up at the tree in the distance. His arrow had found the outer edge of the knothole.

"I shall have to read the stars again tonight, Harry Potter," said Firenze.

Harry left Hagrid and Firenze talking beside the pumpkin patch and returned to the castle. They'd been far more impressed with his accomplishment than he was. He didn't think shooting arrows with his eyes closed was going to defeat Voldemort and he wished he were as skilled at finding Horcruxes.

He went into the Great Hall for dinner and was surprised when he didn't see Ron or Hermione. Neville spotted him and waved him over. He was sitting with the Creevey brothers.

"Hi, guys," said Harry.

"Hi," chimed the brothers.

"Harry," said Neville, lowering his voice, "Ron and Hermione ate earlier and left right out. They said something about needing to go to the library and that they'd see you tonight at our regular meeting."

"Okay, thanks."

Harry glanced down the table and saw Ginny seated with Seamus, Dean and Lavender. Things were still weird between them. She was more than willing to talk to him during D.A. meetings and was polite if he asked her any general questions; but the minute it looked like they were moving towards anything more familiar, she seemed to close him out.

McGonagall, rising from her seat and tapping her water glass, interrupted his thoughts.

"Notices will be posted in all the common rooms in the morning," she began, "but I feel inclined to share this news with you tonight."

She had everyone's attention.

"In light of the stringent security measures and limited freedoms enacted this term, and your marked efforts to adhere to them, we've decided to offer you a little something to break up the monotony," she said, giving a rare and slight smile.

"This year's Halloween feast will be expanded into a dinner dance."

The hall erupted into excited and whispered chatter, especially among the girls. McGonagall raised her hands for silence and continued.

"Given the short notice, it will not be as formal as the Yule Ball hosted several years ago. You may come in dress robes if you have them, and costumes are certainly encouraged. Please note however, that full masks will not be permitted. For first through third-years, curfew will be extended until ten-thirty. For fourth-years and higher, it will be extended until twelve-thirty."

Applause rang out around the hall.

"You will find more details on the bulletin boards in the morning. We encourage anyone interested to please sign up for the various committees. And as always, we expect everyone to be on their best behavior."

Through the rest of dinner, most everyone was talking about the Halloween dance. The topic continued on once students made their way to the Room of Requirement for another D.A. meeting.

Harry wasn't listening. He was tuning everything out and running through Defensive spells in his head. Ron and Hermione showed up at seven o'clock on the head and everyone settled down to see what Harry had in store for tonight's lesson.

He'd arranged a makeshift obstacle course that ran from one end of the room to the middle. There were stacks of crates, dressing screens, free standing doorways, old bureaus and even a few boulders placed sporadically. People were looking around the room curiously.

"We're going to run through a multiple attack simulation," said Harry.

"Wicked," said Dean Thomas.

"That's the general idea," said Harry on a slight laugh. "I need you to divide into three groups."

When they'd moved around, there were two groups of eight, and a third with nine, including little William Tanner.

"Now pick two people from your teams as targets," he directed.

Colin and Lavender were chosen as targets for the first group, which also included Neville, Dean, Seamus, Ernie, Justin and Luna.

Harry had Lavender and Colin join him in the center of the room with their backs turned, and he directed the rest of their team to take up hidden positions behind or within any of the items he'd used to line the obstacle course.

"Remember," he said to the room at large, "you may not use any spell or charm that will result in injury. You can color each other in stripes or any other such thing, just nothing to draw blood or cause permanent damage."

Harry held his own wand tighter, just in case he needed to block anyone else's spell or charm.

"Okay," he said to Colin and Lavender, turning them around to face the rest of the room, their team hidden. "Your goal is to make it to the end of the room as unscathed as possible. You can block and deflect any of the spells, attempt to disarm or immobilize your teammates, or just dive out of the way if that's what it takes."

Dean disarmed Lavender within the first few minutes of the exercise. To Colin's credit, he tried to shield her as they continued forward and they got about two-thirds through the obstacle course before Neville jumped out and stopped them both with a well timed "_Petrificus Totalus_."

Each team had fifteen minutes to simulate the exercise, with four people from each team getting a turn at playing target. It was a lot harder than any of them thought it would be, and that was the point Harry wanted to make. A real battle was going to be unpredictable and uncontrollable, and he wanted them as prepared as possible.

"Good work, everyone," he said to them when the third group had finished their second run through. It was already a little after eight o'clock. "We'll do the same thing next Saturday, so everyone gets a turn."

Ron and Hermione remained behind to help him straighten up the room. He looked up and found both of them watching him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Ron, but Hermione was smiling at him.

"Listen, Harry," she said, "I know this is going to sound silly and all, but do you still want to be an Auror?"

Harry did find it an odd question. Given everything that had happened and needed to happen, his future plans were the furthest thing from his mind. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure he'd survive long enough to have one, but he didn't dare tell them that.

"I haven't thought much about it, lately," he said with all honesty. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you should be doing this, mate," added Ron.

"Come again," said Harry.

"This," said Ron, pointing at the makeshift obstacle course, "was a brilliant idea. You're a natural instructor. I think the Ministry should hire you to train its Aurors."

"Yeah, right. Be serious," said Harry.

"It's not that far fetched, Harry," said Hermione. "You could probably give a few of them a run for their money, right now."

"Thanks, but you two are obviously biased," he said grinning and changing the subject as he looked at his watch. "Let's get going."

When they neared the staircase, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak from his bag, slipped it on and handed his bag to Ron.

"I'll see you later," he said and headed down the marble staircase as his friends continued on to Gryffindor Tower.

Dobby was waiting for Harry when he entered the kitchens and removed his Cloak.

"Good evening, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby.

"Hi, Dobby," said Harry, and he took a double take at the huge pile of items strewn across one of the large tables.

"I got everything I could find, sir," explained the house elf. "If what Harry Potter needs isn't here, then it cannot be in the kitchens, sir."

"Let's get started, then," said Harry, sitting at the table and beginning to comb through the items one by one.

Two hours later, disappointment was taking over, yet again. It must have been evident on his face.

"Does Harry Potter need Dobby to look anywhere else, sir?" he asked, with such desire to help clearly in his eyes.

"You've been an incredible help, Dobby, really," said Harry sincerely. "But it's just not here."

"And what does Master seek?" croaked a dreaded voice from behind them.

It was Kreacher, looking as miserable and mental as always.

"That's none of your concern, Kreacher," snapped Harry at the other elf.

Harry didn't believe he would ever be able to forgive the role Kreacher had played in Sirius's death. He knew Voldemort and his Death Eaters had manipulated Kreacher, but it didn't erase the pain or the memory.

"Oh, the little half breed traitor is up to something, eh," said Kreacher.

Dobby had moved in a flash and Harry was barely able to grab hold of him before he launched himself at Kreacher.

"Don't Dobby," he said. "He's not worth the trouble and there isn't anything else Kreacher can do to hurt me. He's already accomplished that."

The pathetic little elf smiled to himself as he relived his treachery.

"Kreacher," said Harry, "do not forget my orders. You are not allowed to talk about, signal, or otherwise communicate with anyone or anything regarding me, anything I say or do, or anything I ask anyone else to say or do."

Kreacher's smile vanished and his eyes refocused.

"Yes, Master," he said disgustedly. "The half breed is too clever for his own good. Perhaps the Dark Lord is cleverer."

Dobby struggled to release himself from Harry's grip.

"Kreacher, go back to your quarters," ordered Harry and the second elf bowed and vanished with a loud crack.

"You should have let Dobby thrash him, sir," said Dobby, shaking with anger on Harry's behalf.

Harry laughed as he released him and said, "Maybe I should have."

He visited with Dobby for a while longer and then made his way upstairs, removing his Cloak and annoying the Fat Lady when he woke her up to gain entrance to the common room. Ron and Hermione were waiting up for him. Everyone else had gone upstairs.

"How'd it go," asked Ron, as Hermione pulled her wand and cast _"Muffliato."_

"It didn't," he said, collapsing into a cushy chair, not bothering to provide any additional details about his futile search or his encounter with Kreacher. "I'll contact Moody in the morning."

"What about that note about a treasured gift?" asked Hermione.

"Who knows what that could mean," said Ron.

"Not me," said Harry on a sigh, wanting to get off this topic. "I'm surprised to see the common room empty. I'd of thought people would still be hanging around and talking about the Halloween dance."

"Yeah, we got to hear all about it when we got back this evening. The last group headed upstairs about a half hour ago to start trying on dress robes," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I was getting really close to casting a silencing charm."

Ron laughed and then said, "Hey, wait a minute."

"What?" said Harry and Hermione.

"You know," said Ron as he shifted on the couch, "everyone's going to be distracted that night. It might be a good time for you to stretch your legs."

Harry was silent for a moment, but then said, "You're right. That just might do the trick. I doubt anyone will notice if I'm missing."

"Fat chance," said Hermione. "Half the girls fluttering around here were whispering and trying to figure out how to get you to go with them."

"Not that again," he said. "Well, I'm not going. Even if I didn't have other things to do, I still wouldn't want to go."

Hermione gave him a penetrating look, but didn't say anything else.

Harry ran a hand across his face in frustration and mumbled, "Who'd ever thought it'd be this much trouble to find one small gold cup with two handles."

"You did," answered Hermione with frankness. "Remember, you said…"

"Harry," Ron cut across her, sitting bolt upright "say that again."

"Who'd ever…" he began.

"No, not that part. Describe the cup again," said Ron, looking very serious.

"It's a small gold cup," said Harry.

"With handles?" asked Ron.

"Of course, how can you have a cup without a handle?" interrupted Hermione.

"Not a handle," said Ron. "Harry just said two handles."

"Yes, it's a small gold cup," said Harry, pausing and trying to recall everything he'd seen in the Pensieve with Dumbledore. "It's got thin gold handles on either side, and it's engraved, supposedly with a badger, but I couldn't see it clearly."

Ron was watching him anxiously.

"Haven't I said this before?" asked Harry.

"No," said Ron. "You've been talking about a small gold cup, but that's it."

"Sorry, so what's that got to do…" began Harry, but stopped cold when he saw Ron's face break out into a wide grin.

"Harry, I think I know where it is," said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Not what, more like where," he said, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "It's in the trophy room."

They were on their feet, out the portrait hole and racing down the marble staircase within seconds. They made it to the gallery full of suits of armor without running into Filch or his blasted cat.

Harry refused to slow down and skidded through the entrance to the large and echoing trophy room. Ron and Hermione were on his heels.

Hermione reached for her wand, but Harry had already trained his gaze along the walls and the torches lit in succession.

"Where?" he asked, turning to face Ron.

"There," answered Ron, pointing to their left. "It's the third one from the far end."

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione.

"I'm positive," he said. "It's one of the last ones I emptied and cleaned when I had detention with Filch our second year."

Harry walked up to the crowded case. It was full of trophies, plaques, cups and engraved plates.

"It's on the top shelf," said Ron. "almost in the very back."

Harry opened the case and the friends slowly removed items from the top shelf, placing them on the floor around them. Finally, the small cup was revealed and Harry stared at it, his heart thudding in his chest.

"That's it," he said, his throat going dry.

"I wonder how long it's been here," said Hermione.

"Probably since the day Voldemort came back to see Dumbledore, when he pretended to want to return to teach," said Harry. "All he needed was a few seconds of access inside the castle in order to place the cup anywhere he wanted."

"Wouldn't he have put some sort of spell around it?" asked Hermione, clearly remembering the damage inflicted on Dumbledore's hand and arm from contact with Gaunt's ring.

"Definitely," said Harry.

"Then how were you able to touch it?" asked Hermione, looking to Ron.

"Actually, I never did," said Ron. "I gave up before I even finished the top shelf. I looked at the cup and some of the other smaller stuff around it; but I was so sick of polishing and waxing, I just put some bigger items in front of them, hoping Filch wouldn't notice."

Harry had his wand out and was slowly moving it towards the cup when Hermione stopped him.

"Wait," said Hermione. "I'm not sure you should do that."

"Step back," he said to both of them, completely undeterred.

Ron looked at Harry and then moved back several paces, pulling Hermione alongside him.

Harry's wand made contact with the cup, but nothing happened. He turned his wand around and used the thicker end to prod the cup, but it didn't budge.

"You wouldn't have been able to remove it even if you'd tried," said Harry to Ron over his shoulder. "I think it's got some sort of sticking charm on it. Voldemort wasn't planning on having anyone move it."

"What do you want to do?" asked Ron as he and Hermione moved closer again.

"Can you clear the nearest cases out of the way?" he asked, as he slipped between the spaces and made his way around all four sides of the trophy case.

Ron and Hermione pulled their wands and within minutes, they had cleared a path on either side of the case, its neighbors having been levitated to the opposite side of the room.

"Now what?" asked Hermione as Harry reappeared from the rear of the case.

Harry pulled his own wand, thought, _"Diffindo_," and guided his wand tip along the top of the case, cutting a path in the glass.

He nodded at Ron, who stepped to the other side of the case, and together they lifted the top off the case and moved it across the room. Hermione finished clearing all the other items from the trophy case until only Hufflepuff's cup stood inside it.

"I've got an idea," said Harry.

"What is it?" asked Ron.

He gripped his wand, concentrating on the message he wanted to send and thought, "_Patronum Animatim_."

The silver stag emerged brightly from his wand tip, looked at Harry and took off to deliver his message to Professor McGonagall. Harry only hoped she was in her private quarters and wouldn't be able to track them down until he had time to attempt what he was planning.

He'd only done this one other time, and even then, he hadn't known how he'd managed it. Harry conjured an image of Dumbledore's face in his mind, took a deep breath and flicked his wand silently.

Ron and Hermione were looking around trying to figure out what he'd done. Their question was answered seconds later when the steel and ruby encrusted sword of Godric Gryffindor appeared in Harry's outstretched left hand.

"What the bloody hell are you going to do with that?" asked Ron incredulously.

"I'm hedging a bet that Godric Gryffindor's power is stronger than that of Slytherin's heir," said Harry. "It was once before."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, then at Harry and finally nodded.

"Be careful," Hermione said as she and Ron stepped back once more.

Harry didn't think any spell he currently knew would be strong enough to do what he wanted, and he didn't trust his other, still developing ability. He switched the sword to his right hand and walked within range of the trophy case.

He put his wand in his pocket, hefted the sword, took aim and with every bit of strength he could summon, swung the blade directly at Hufflepuff's cup. The blade struck and Harry could feel the impact all the way up his arm and into his shoulder joint.

The next few seconds were a blur. It was as if a bright and silent blast had detonated. He was knocked off his feet and looked up in time to see pieces of glass and debris, some huge, hurdling across the room.

He turned to shield his face and was hit by several smaller pieces before he was thankfully able to wandlessly cast _"Impedimenta_."

Ron and Hermione had the same idea and their spells, combined with his own, slowed the onslaught of wood, glass and metal until the pieces rained slowly to the floor.

They rushed to his side as he got slowly to his feet, holding his right arm tight against his body, trying to lessen the throb that ran from his fingertips to his collarbone.

"Are you all right?" asked Hermione.

Harry did not answer. He was still holding Gryffindor's sword and it made a slow, piercing sound as its tip dragged across the stone floor, Harry walking towards the broken remnants of the trophy case.

He shifted through the debris with his foot until he spotted what he wanted. It was Hufflepuff's cup, at least what remained of it.

Relief washing over him, Harry smiled and looked at Ron and Hermione, who now flanked him on either side. The cup had been rent in two and the gold was distorted and showed burn marks, almost as if someone had tried to melt it down.

Ron bent down and slowly prodded the pieces with his wand tip. Nothing happened and he picked up the two halves, a grin to match Harry's spreading across his face.

Hermione had tears of happiness brimming along her lashes.

They looked around the room and surveyed the rest of the damage that had been inflicted. At least four other cases had been destroyed, their contents all over the room. Filch was going to have a fit.

Moments later, a silvery-white cat appeared at Harry's side and one message rang loud and clear in his head.

"McGonagall wants me in her office right now," he said.

"We're coming with you," said Ron.

When the reached the top of the revolving staircase, the door was already open and they could see the headmistress, in a tartan nightdress, pacing the width of the office behind her desk. She looked up when she heard their footsteps and started in on them as they made their way forward.

"Mr. Potter, what exactly was the meaning of that message? I thought you were joking until I came down here and saw that Gryffindor's sword was indeed missing. I don't know how you…" she was unable to finish the rest as she fully took in their appearances, especially Harry's.

"Oh, my goodness," she said, coming around the office, pulling out one of the guest chairs and forcing Harry into it, and indicating that Hermione and Ron should take the others, as a third one materialized without effort.

All three of them were dirty and sported small cuts and abrasions on their faces, hands and neck. There were rips and tears in their clothing. And even though Harry's eyes were alight with energy, his skin was as white as a sheet.

McGonagall reached to take Gryffindor's sword from him, and as she did so, his arm shook uncontrollably and he bit his lip against the jarring pain. The headmistress touched his shoulder and upper chest to steady his arm, but pulled back her hand when she felt something thick and wet. It was covered in blood.

Harry's dark shirt had camouflaged a greater injury and until she'd touched it, he hadn't even realized it was there. It burned like hot wax now, and his eyes stung.

Hermione was out of her seat and at his side, alongside McGonagall. Hermione pulled at the larger tear in his shirt, ripping at the fabric until the right side of his chest was exposed.

Ron and Hermione each frowned and McGonagall gasped.

There was a jagged cut that seemed to run from the middle of his right pectoral to the upper ribcage, the deepest part of the cut near the top. Blood had been steadily seeping through the gash and the surrounding skin looked inflamed. McGonagall took a closer look.

"Is that glass?" she asked, and having seen for herself that it was, added, "What in blazes have you three been doing?"

No one answered and Hermione transfigured a letter opener on McGonagall's desk into a pair of tweezers.

"Hold still," she told Harry and she gently probed the upper part of the wound until she had a firm grip on the glass shard and extracted it slowly.

It was long, thin and serrated. Blood flowed more freely and the intense pain lessened immediately. McGonagall pulled her wand and the flow of blood staunched.

"Thanks," said Harry.

"You will need to see Madame Pomfrey to have it healed properly," replied McGonagall. "But that should hold until one of you can tell me what you've been up to."

"It appears you have had a most interesting night," said a voice from the wall of portraits.

Harry's heart leapt when he recognized Dumbledore's calm cadence and turned to see the penetrating blue eyes watching him from within the portrait frame. Ron and Hermione were staring, transfixed.

Dumbledore smiled softly at each of them and then turned his gaze back to Harry, saying, "Your discomfort hasn't managed to mask your excitement, Harry. Am I to assume you had some success this evening?"

Harry didn't trust his voice. He could only nod.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore softly. "Minerva, I'd like a moment alone with Harry, if you please."

A loud knock at the door drew everyone's attention and in walked Argus Filch, clad in his nightdress and his face flushed with anger.

"Headmistress," he began, near hysterics, "vandals have destroyed the trophy room! Mrs. Norris led me to it. I've never seen such damage in all my years here. Who would…"

He stopped ranting as he took in Harry, Ron and Hermione's appearances.

McGonagall covered smoothly, even though she'd had no idea what happened, saying, "Yes, Argus, I'm already aware of the situation. I'm sorry to say it was unavoidable. I'd appreciate it if you kept this to yourself."

Mr. Filch lost some of his fire, but he still wanted to rant.

"Begging your pardon, Headmistress, but I don't see how this can be kept quiet. It's a bloody mess in there."

"We can take care of that," said Ron, getting up, with Hermione joining him.

"I will accompany you, as well," said McGonagall. "Mr. Potter, please stop by the hospital wing before you return to Gryffindor Tower. I'll alert Poppy to expect you."

"Yes, Professor," he answered.

Everyone left the office, Ron discreetly dropping the destroyed pieces of Hufflepuff's cup in Harry's lap. When the door closed, Harry turned back to the portrait of Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said, taking in every detail of the face that was once again animated.

"It is good to see you, Harry," he said.

"Sir, I'm so sorry…" began Harry.

"Harry, nothing that happened that night was your doing. Of that, I can assure you. Do not dwell on it."

Harry paused. There was so much he wanted to say and so many questions he wanted to ask; but instead, he nodded once more.

"I've been watching and listening since Minerva came downstairs and found Gryffindor's sword missing from its glass case. You had her in a right state. Now do tell, what have you three done?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

Harry held up the remnants of Hufflepuff's cup and Dumbledore smiled deeply and closed his eyes momentarily.

"Well done, Harry," said Dumbledore proudly. "I knew you, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley were up to the task."

Harry relayed everything that had happened, as quickly as possible. He'd so very much missed having this guiding force in his life. Dumbledore listened patiently, and at times, Harry thought he was struggling to stay awake. He remembered what McGonagall had said about the long stretches of sleep and quiet and knew this night's meeting was drawing to a close.

"So, that just leaves something of Ravenclaw's, then," said Dumbledore. "And Nagini, if what we suspect is correct."

Harry did not correct him. He could not bring himself to tell Dumbledore that the locket he'd worked so hard to retrieve on that horrible night had been a fake. He didn't want him knowing he'd weakened himself for nothing, losing his life in the end.

"Yes, Professor," he said. "Hermione has been researching Rowena Ravenclaw and talking to Professor Flitwick. It almost seems like there's too much information to pick through."

"I am not surprised," answered Dumbledore. "Rowena Ravenclaw was a complex and fascinating witch. Her talents were boundless."

"Yes, so we've learned," said Harry.

"It might interest you to know," said Dumbledore on a yawn, "that she and Gryffindor were very close. She was a warrior at heart, and her bravery nearly rivaled her innate brilliance."

Harry thought about that for a moment, finally tucking it away to discuss with Hermione and Ron later. He looked up in time to see Dumbledore's eyes flutter close and his head drop against the cushioned wing backed chair.

"Goodnight, Professor," he said quietly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Madame Pomfrey had fixed Harry right up, commenting that she wasn't surprised that he'd found some way to injure himself this year, Quidditch or no Quidditch. He was told to expect some aches and stiffness for several days, but he'd be fine. Ron and Hermione had already been attended to when he showed up. They waited with him and by the time they'd reached Gryffindor Tower, were still too excited to go to sleep.

Harry filled them in on his conversation with Professor Dumbledore. He'd expected Hermione to lecture him about not coming clean about the locket, but she and Ron both understood why he'd been unable to deliver that news.

They, in turn, told him all about McGonagall's reaction when she saw the trophy room. She sent Filch off on some wild goose chase for unneeded brooms and then lit into the two of them. She wasn't as mad about the damage, which the three of them repaired in no time; but was adamant that one or all of them could have been killed. She knew Harry was carrying on with whatever he'd been doing with Dumbledore. But she felt strongly that Ron and Hermione should have tried to talk some sense into him.

It was at that moment that Ron snorted back a chuckle and McGonagall gave him a detention. Ron didn't care. None of them did. She could have given them a year's worth of detentions and it wouldn't have put a dent in the pure euphoria they were experiencing in the wee hours.

The trio rode that wave of happiness all week, until Harry came crashing back to earth on Friday evening. It was Halloween night and he'd spent the week deflecting every inquiry about his plans for the dance. He really did not want to go. But at the last moment, he gave in and let Ron and Hermione talk him into going.

"You have to eat, don't you?" asked Hermione. "You can leave anytime afterwards and I promise I won't say a word."

"All right, but I'm not putting on dress robes or a costume, so don't ask," he said.

"Neither are we," said Ron. "It should still be fun, though."

And it was, or at least it had started that way. When they arrived in the Great Hall, the house tables had been removed and there were dozens of oval tables spaced around a large dance floor that dominated the center of the room. Nearly everything, from the table linens to the countless decorations were done up in varying shades of brown, gold, red and burnt orange. Thousands of twinkling lights competed with the stars of the enchanted ceiling.

The only things equal to the room itself were the items that made up the menu. Everything had been renamed, and Harry decided to start his meal off with a bowl of blood soup, previously known as tomato bisque.

Tonks had volunteered to oversee the music and the students couldn't have been happier. McGonagall wouldn't allow a live band on premise, but Tonks had pulled a few strings and gotten the Wizarding Wireless Network to dedicate four straight hours to playing songs that were probably setting most of the teachers' teeth on edge.

Everyone was having a really good time and Harry was half way through his dinner, talking and laughing with Ron, Hermione, Neville, Seamus, Lavender and Dean. They were discussing some of the more interesting costumes -- like Tonks and Jillian dressed as Muggle pop stars -- when a flash of red caught his eye and he looked up to see Ginny entering the room.

He knew she would likely bypass their table and probably sit with the Creevey brothers and Luna across the room. He was mistaken and fairly dumbstruck when Terry Boot approached her, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and escorted her to a table of his fellow Ravenclaws and a couple of Hufflepuffs.

Harry pretended to be interested in whatever Lavender was currently commenting on, plastered a faint smile on his face, and waited for his heart rate to return to normal.

The torches on the far wall flickered out and relit themselves. Most people thought it was a minor trick planned for the night; but Jillian had turned to look at Harry and he could feel Ron and Hermione watching him.

Somehow, he managed to sit still for another half hour; and then, under pretense of needing to speak with Professor McGonagall, who was heading for the double doors of the Great Hall, made to follow her out. However, when Harry reached the corridor he headed in the opposite direction from McGonagall, making his way up the marble staircase, seeking the quiet of Gryffindor Tower.

Harry could hear light, hurried footsteps behind him and knew to whom they belonged. He did not slow his gait or turn around. He gained entrance to the common room and went upstairs to the welcoming solitude of the dormitory. Harry was standing and looking out of the tower window when the dormitory door eventually opened, as he knew it would.

"Harry," said a soft voice, "I don't know…"

"Drop it, Hermione," he said, turning to face her. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. I did break up with her, remember."

"Yes, but not because you don't care about her," she said. "Ron is really annoyed with her. I can't believe she'd do something so childish."

"Don't say that," he said flatly.

"You don't think a part of her did this to try and get a reaction out of you?" she asked in a knowing tone.

"Not really," he said and was rewarded with a raised brow from Hermione.

"Okay, maybe a small part," he finally admitted, "but how's that any different from your little tiff with Ron last year?"

"That was different because Ron was behaving like a spoiled six year old," she said simply.

"It doesn't matter, Hermione," he said. "Ginny should be getting on with her life."

"You can't tell me that didn't feel like a slap in the face," she said.

"Look, we all know why I broke up with Ginny," he said, his temper heating just a bit. "Ginny knows why, too. But the reason doesn't change the fact that we aren't together and aren't going to be together. I have no right to complain about anything she chooses to do. I'm out of it."

Hermione walked right up to him, pulled at the top button of his shirt and lifted the silver chain and pendent from beneath the fabric.

"If it really didn't matter, I don't think you'd be wearing this," she said, her own temper flaring slightly. "Or did you think I hadn't noticed it when I was pulling glass out of your chest last week?"

Harry looked at his equally stubborn friend, removed the chain from her hand and stepped around her. He walked several paces, running his hands roughly trough his already untidy hair before turning to face her again.

"What do you want me to say, Hermione?" he began. "Do you want me to say it hurt to see her with someone else? No problem; it hurt."

"Harry, I'm…" she started, but he wasn't finished.

"Am I going to go downstairs and tell her how I feel?" he continued. "No, I'm not; she already knows. But it doesn't change a thing. I am a danger to her and I'm not going to give Voldemort any added incentive to go after her. Because trust me, I'd rather deal with this hurt than the alternative."

Hermione knew he was talking about his parents, Sirius and Dumbledore and her voice softened again.

"I just don't want to see you lose out on something that could bring you some real happiness," she said.

"It won't be the first time," he said. "It's okay. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be," she said sincerely, quoting Ron's sentiment from the summer.

Harry adored her for her unwavering friendship and loyalty.

"Go back downstairs and enjoy the rest of the evening with Ron. You two deserve some happiness of your own, you know."

She blushed, but didn't deny anything.

"I'm glad you two found each other," he said.

She smiled, hugged him lightly and left the dormitory.

Harry went back to the tower window and watched the stars dancing across the night sky, wondering if his heart's truest wishes would ever come true.


	20. Chapter 20: Least Expected

CHAPTER TWENTY: LEAST EXPECTED

"It has been months, Draco," said Voldemort. "It is most discouraging that in all this time, Ms. Parkinson has been unable to provide any more useful information."

Draco was shockingly pale, but he stood erect and unflinching in Voldemort's presence. On surface, he seemed beyond the point of caring, resigned to whatever fate lay before him. He'd watched his mother reduced to little more than a house-elf, made to cook and clean and bear unimaginable cruelties.

Aunt Bella stood in front of the fireplace mantle, refusing to look directly at him, the crackling fire dancing behind her and casting her long shadow across the floor. Oh, how he wished he could push her into the flames.

And then there was Snape, always watching him and trying to break into his thoughts. But his thoughts were the only things he owned and controlled. Locked away for hours on end, day after day and month after month, he'd had nothing but his thoughts to keep him sane. He'd taught himself to manipulate them in ways he never thought possible. Ironically, Snape would be proud of him if he had any clue.

Alas, all any of them saw were the images he allowed them: Draco curled on his dirty mattress with tears streaming down his face; Draco attempting to hear his mother in the next room; and Draco regretting the day he ever laid eyes on Harry Potter. These certainly were not untruths, but they were the least of the things running through his mind.

"My apologies, My Lord," said Draco, "but no, there isn't any new information from Pansy. She does not have a single class with Potter or any other reason to engage him."

Voldemort hissed and Nagini slithered forward, coming within inches of where Draco stood.

"She is a Prefect. Surely, she is required to hold court with the Head Boy," interjected Snape, nearly choking on the last words.

"I'm sure she is," said Draco, doing nothing to disguise his irritation with his former mentor. "But Pansy has hated Potter since day one. It's not like she can walk up to him or his annoying friends and make small talk. We know he and the Weasley princess split up and are barely on speaking terms anymore. I guess Ginny is smarter than her brothers. Other than that, I doubt Pansy can tell us anything else."

"Potions is still a mixed class," countered Snape. "I know Ms. Parkinson was ill adept at the subject, but Zabini was taking class with you."

"Yes," said Draco, "but he isn't like Pansy. Blaise won't stick his neck out for no good reason."

"Then we will have to furnish him the perfect reason to do so," said Voldemort, in a deadly voice.

No one else spoke.

"Bella, find Dolohov and have him pay a little visit to the Zabini home this evening," ordered Voldemort. "Tell him to make a point, but restrain himself. We do not want young Mr. Zabini so distraught that he is of no use to us."

"Yes, Master," oozed Bellatrix, her excitement barely containable as she left to carry out his demands.

"Draco, I dare say you will find your former housemate more than helpful by tomorrow," said the Dark Lord. "His first task will be a simple one. All I want is confirmation that Potter will remain at the school for the upcoming holidays."

"Potter has never returned home at Christmas or Easter, My Lord," said Draco. "He may have spent one or two with the Weasleys, but he's never returned to his own home."

"I'm counting on that," said Voldemort with a sneer. "I know where he won't be. It's where I need him to be that is important."

Judging by the look on their faces, the Death Eaters were in the dark about whatever Lord Voldemort was planning.

"My Lord," said Snape, "might I inquire, what happens if we learn Potter isn't planning to remain at the school over the holidays?"

"Then we will simply need to make the Order believe it is in his best interest to do so," answered the Dark Lord, with his red eyes flashing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The sound of wood upon wood, strike upon strike echoed across the room. Two forms moved in what looked like graceful choreography.

"Halt," called DeSousa to his young pupil, surprised to realize that even he was a bit winded today. "You've been practicing a lot on your own. It shows."

Harry nodded, saying, "It helps me clear my head. Besides, I actually do like it."

"Better than Jujitsu, then?" asked DeSousa and laughed as Harry grimaced.

"Definitely," said Harry, placing his two light weight rattan sticks on the floor and rolling his shoulders to work out some stiffness.

The "_it_" to which Harry referred was called Kali or Eskrima, the native martial art of the Philippines. He'd never seen it or heard of it before DeSousa introduced it in one of his lessons right after Halloween; but he'd been hooked from the beginning.

It was one of the oldest and most comprehensive martial arts in existence. It teaches both empty handed and armed fighting, the principles for each being synonymous. The techniques of body angling and positioning, zoning, striking and blocking are always the same, whether armed or not.

Harry's first two lessons had been unarmed, but by the second week, DeSousa had incorporated the Kali sticks. With a stick in each hand, he'd earned his usual souvenirs of bruises, scrapes and muscle aches. But he enjoyed every minute of it and had been sneaking off to the Room of Requirement in the early morning hours to practice before the others awoke.

"You know, I nearly lost my left weapon on that last counterattack you launched," said Andre. "You seem to be finding your flow. I'm impressed, Potter; and I don't say that lightly."

"Thanks, Andre," he said. "Looks like I've got a really good teacher."

"Okay, how'd you like to try it again with the Ginuntings?" he asked, summoning two long downward curving swords from the wall.

Harry's eyes widened as DeSousa unsheathed one of the swords. The mid afternoon sunlight skated along the length of the blade. It was simultaneously beautiful and lethal.

DeSousa flipped over the sheath to reveal a zippered compartment, from which he extracted a length of some sort of extra heavy rubbery-like material. He fashioned it along the sharpened side of the blade, securing it in a small clip embedded in the handle, just above the hilt. He gripped the sword along the now rubberized edge and offered it handle side first, to Harry.

"We'll use the protective guards for a while," he explained. "They won't stop the bruises or the stinging if you are struck; but at least you'll be leaving with all your body parts intact."

"I don't mind a little bruising," said Harry as he accepted the sword and tested its weight, while DeSousa readied the second sword.

"I can't have you walking around the school with one of these," added DeSousa. "But, if you promise only to use it when practicing somewhere secure, I'll allow you access to it. When I'm not in here, everything we use is guarded with anti-summoning charms. I'd be willing to lift the protection on one of these for you."

"That'd be great," said Harry, who'd been using broomstick handles to mimic the Kali sticks. "You don't have to worry. No one except a house-elf knows when or where I practice. Thanks."

"You are quite welcome. Now then, let's get back to business. You'll work the sword with your right, and the stick with your left. Or as it's properly called, 'Espada y Daga.'"

"Espada y Daga," repeated Harry. "Got it."

"We'll start the Doce Pares drill on my mark. Remember, nothing has changed. You're still working two weapons, although the blade is going to feel awkward until you become accustomed to it."

"Okay," said Harry.

"Now," called Andre, and having opted to work the stick in his right hand, began with a San Miguel, a forehand strike with the right-handed weapon, cutting on a diagonal.

Harry stepped into it and met the strike with the dull side of his sword on an upward block, countering with a left-handed strike from his own stick. They lost track of time and worked well past their usual schedule.

When he emerged from the Prefects bathroom sometime later, students were already heading into dinner. He followed and slid into a seat between Ron and Hermione.

"Why do all your classes seem to be getting longer and longer?" asked Ron quietly. "You skipped lunch again today."

"I know," said Harry. "Sorry."

"Leave it alone, Ronald," said Hermione in a hushed whisper. "I'd be worried if he weren't really, really busy with the others."

Harry smiled at her from behind his glass of water, which he downed in one long gulp. He was thirsty and famished, and all other conversation would have to wait.

They were both right. He had been really, really busy. They all had; but Harry had looked for every bit of extra work he could fit in to his days. His insomnia was at an all time high. Only pure exhaustion seemed to knock him out for any period of time, so he kept pushing himself. The good thing was that his teachers and instructors were happy to push back.

Slughorn had begun incorporating Occlumency and Legilimency with Harry in their regular N.E.W.T. class. The first time he'd heard Slughorn commenting on his Potions work from within his own head, he'd nearly dropped a vial. The cool thing was that Harry had learned to respond back. It was rough in the beginning and it still wasn't perfect; but he and Slughorn could carry on simple conversations within their minds and no one in class was the wiser.

During Monday's private lesson with Tonks, she'd actually refused to dismiss him until he'd simultaneously transfigured the first row of desks into horses, creating a mini herd in the middle of the classroom. Harry had thought she'd gone off the deep end and was on the verge of losing his own temper when she'd been adamant that he had to stay until he did it. Apparently, righteous indignation was an excellent motivating factor for him, because he'd somehow pulled it off. He turned to her, still annoyed, but forgot all of it when she broke out into a huge grin and began applauding like a kid at a puppet show.

Flitwick was teaching him charms and spells for which Fred and George would have paid a small fortune. He'd even taught Harry the charm used to create the flying keys that were part of the enchantments that once guarded the Sorcerer's Stone. And as Flitwick had promised him at the start of term, Harry could now do in a matter of seconds many of the things it had once taken him a lot of time and effort to accomplish.

During this morning's private lesson with Jillian, he'd walked in, pulled his wand and happily presented her with a vase of fresh flowers from Professor Sprout's greenhouses. This time, he'd done it silently, quickly and without so much as a blink of an eyelash. She smiled and accepted the vase graciously, thanked him and then asked why he hadn't attempted it without his wand. He did, and she now had two vases of flowers sitting on her desk.

Jillian hadn't been kidding. She could definitely be demanding; but she was positively brilliant and Harry was thriving under her tutelage. They worked drills for the first fifteen minutes of each lesson. She'd call out any combination of spells, charms and jinxes; and he had to perform them wandlessly, and lately, nonverbally as well.

The next fifteen minutes were for advanced defensive work. For these, he was only allowed to use his wand if he failed to pull off a particular spell within three attempts. It was always understood that he would work on any of those and be ready to attempt them at their next lesson.

The end of class was free style. For this, Harry was allowed to cast any sequence of spells he wanted, with or without wand. Spells were cast verbally, so that they had time to block and deflect each other's spells. The Unforgivable Curses were the only things banned from use in these sessions.

The one drawback to his growing ability was that he had to remember to always use his wand in his other classes. He'd almost blown it in Transfiguration class last week and Ron had to kick him under the desk to get his attention.

"By the way," Ron tried to say as he swallowed whatever he'd stuffed into his mouth, "Mum wants to know what you want for Christmas lunch. She's missed us all so much, she's agreed to make all our favorites."

"Oh," Harry said, looking a little uncomfortable.

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing, really," he said. "It's just that I was thinking about staying here for the holidays."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I guess we could do that."

"You don't have to," he said. "You two should go home for the holidays. Don't let me stop you."

"Why don't you want to come with us?" asked Ron.

"Really, it's got nothing to do with you. I'm just not real anxious to set foot back in that house," he said, clearing referring to Grimmauld Place. "Besides, it'll be pretty quiet around here and I can try and catch up on a few things."

"What did the others say?" asked Hermione quietly.

"Nothing," he said. "I hadn't told them. But I guess you're right; I should. I'll go see Professor McGonagall tonight."

"Are you sure," asked Ron.

"Yeah, I am," he said. "I'll be fine."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A little over a week later, Harry was preparing for their final D.A. lesson before the holiday break. Most students were leaving tomorrow. The Ministry and Order were overseeing Floo transport directly from the headmistress's office. Everyone had a set departure time.

Harry arrived early to the to Room of Requirement and had only just starting setting up when he heard the door open behind him. He turned around and was surprised to see Ginny.

"Hi, Harry," she said. "Do you have a few minutes?"

He found this a strange question, given that she'd spent the last couple of months pretty much ignoring him.

"Sure," he said.

"I hear you're staying here for the holidays," she said.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Well, Mum and Dad aren't happy about it. In fact, Mum is having a fit."

"She really shouldn't," he said.

"Like that's ever stopped her," she said. "Is there any way you'd change your mind?"

"It's not that serious," he said.

She colored slightly as she looked at him and asked directly, "Am I the reason you don't want to come?"

This was a long way from their conversations of late. They'd been more along the line of "Would you mind passing the marmalade, Harry." He wasn't sure how or if he wanted to answer her now.

"I've got a number of reasons for wanting to remain here," he said honestly.

"You didn't answer my question," she said.

"Sure I did," replied Harry, his eyes holding hers until she was the first to look away.

Harry hoped someone else would show up early, but knew it was unlikely. Most everyone else was probably trying to get some packing done.

"Ginny," he said, and waited until she looked back at him. "Please just go home and have a wonderful holiday. There's no reason for you to worry about me."

"Friends get to worry about friends," she said quietly.

"Yeah, well…" he began.

"I know I haven't been a very good one of late," she said, cutting him off.

This time Harry was the first to look away.

"I owe you an apology," she said.

"Ginny, you don't owe me anything," he said, so not wanting to make things any worse between them.

"Yes, I do," she said. "I've been trying to work up the nerve to face you for weeks. So please, just let me say this while I can."

Harry nodded.

"First, I should have told you about Terry asking me to the Halloween dance. You shouldn't have found out the way you did. I know it was just a stupid dance, but still…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he found himself asking.

"Because I was angry," she said. "And sad, and probably confused. You name it, I was it."

"About the day at the Quidditch pitch," he said. "Now it's my turn to apologize. I shouldn't have let things get out of hand."

She gave a soft laugh and shook her head.

"No, I started that fiasco of an afternoon," she said. "I'd missed you so much when I was in France, and things seemed so easy between us when I got back to Hogwarts, almost too easy. I fooled myself into thinking that because everything seemed so safe here, we could let our guards down."

"Ginny," he started but she shook her head for him to let her finish.

"I forgot whom I was dealing with," she said. "You let your guard down, all right; just only enough to give me a glimpse of what I most wanted. But your admirable and annoying sense of right and wrong kicked in; and I could look into your eyes and literally see you closing the door on us, even though I knew you wanted the same thing I did."

Harry could only look at her.

"You sent me off to the castle," she continued, "and even though I knew in my head that you wouldn't change your mind, there was a small part of my heart that kept hoping. A week or so went by and we never talked about it. Then, when I ran into you in Slughorn's office, I wanted to scream. But I knew it wouldn't do any good. You looked as miserable as I felt, but I could see there was no going back."

Harry still wanted to kick himself and she knew it.

"There's nothing you could have done, Harry," she said. "This was going to play out, eventually. It just happened sooner rather than later. I'm sorry I let it fester. Honestly, I think I was angrier with myself than with you."

"I'm the one who's sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you," he said.

"I've known that all along," she said. "That made it all that much harder. It would have been a lot easier if you'd been a world-class git. But you're not. You're pretty terrific, actually."

Harry smiled and said, "You're pretty amazing yourself, Ginny Weasley."

"I know," she said and they both laughed a little, tensions slowly easing.

"So, do I get my friend back?" he asked. "I've really missed her."

"You couldn't get rid of me if you tried," she said. "I made a promise to you under that tree in the Burrow, and I'm so sorry I didn't keep it."

She moved forward and hugged him tightly. He hesitated for only a second before returning the embrace, quietly breathing in the soft fragrance from her hair.

"Okay, enough with the apologies," he said, pulling back to look at her. "There's just one other thing."

"What?" she asked.

"Tell Terry I'll curse him if he doesn't treat you well," he said.

"I think he already knows that," she said. "He's a decent guy, Harry."

"I'd have already cursed him if he weren't," he said.

"I kind of avoided him for the longest time after the dance. I felt like such an idiot. But he kept coming around and we started talking. It's not serious. I mean it's not like…" she stopped at the look on Harry's face.

"Let's save all the details, shall we," he said.

She giggled and replied, "Deal. So, will you consider coming home with us for Christmas."

Harry shook is head.

"I really do have some other things to take care of," he said.

"Okay, you can't blame a girl for trying."

"I suppose not," said Harry, smiling. "Now, we've got about five minutes before people start showing up. How about giving me a hand with the mats?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and most of the other students had left on Sunday. They'd made one more plea for him to change his mind, but Harry had declined. Now, two days later, he had to admit that he was already missing them. Still, he'd been able to catch up on some of the extra work he'd been given, and he'd promised Hermione that he'd visit with Dumbledore's portrait again to talk about Rowena Ravenclaw. They'd both been stumped by his reference to her as a warrior.

There were eight students staying through the holidays. Harry was the only Gryffindor. There were three Ravenclaws and three Hufflepuffs, all third and fourth-years. And to Harry's surprise, the final remaining student was Blaise Zabini from Slytherin. Harry had never known him to stay behind during any of the breaks.

Slughorn, McGonagall, Tonks and Jillian were staying at the castle, the latter two to help keep an eye on Harry. Kipling and DeSousa were also still on premise, and Harry was glad he'd be able to continue training with DeSousa during the long break.

Harry had just returned to the castle after spending the late afternoon visiting Hagrid. He cleared the first floor landing and was continuing up, when heard a deep, heavy and unmistakable voice from down the first floor corridor. He couldn't make out the words, but knew it was Kingsley. His voice was coming from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Harry turned back and headed down the corridor to say hello. He was just about to knock on the partially open door, when he registered the tone of Kingsley voice and knew he'd be interrupting something private. Harry also knew he should turn around and walk away; but the obvious concern in Kingsley's voice had raised his own and he remained where he stood.

"Jilly," said Kingsley, "don't tell me you're fine. You're not and I can see it written all across your face."

"Some days are harder than others," answered Jillian, her voice strained with emotion. "It was easier in the beginning, I'll admit."

"I know I'm part of the reason you agreed to do this," he said. "But if it's become too much, then maybe it's time to step aside."

"Absolutely not," she said firmly, clearing her throat. "Don't suggest it again. Please, Kingsley, this is far too important. You know that."

Kingsley sighed and Harry could hear him moving about the room.

"You're right; and I'm sorry," he started again. "But it's eating you up inside and I hate not being here for you."

"You're here now," she said, trying to force some levity into her voice.

"But only for a little while. What happens after I leave again?" he asked. "Jilly, why don't you just tell Harry? He'll under…"

Harry nearly jumped at hearing his name mentioned, but he never heard what else Kingsley intended to say because Jillian interrupted him.

"NO!" she said. "Just drop it, please. He's got enough going on without taking on any of my baggage. And as you very well know, there's nothing anyone can do about it, so what would be the point."

"All right. We'll do it your way," he said quietly. "But I think you are making a mistake."

"So noted," she said. "Now, do you have time for a meal with your sister or are you too annoyed to digest anything properly?"

"I'm not annoyed," replied Kingsley. "I'm just worried about you. I happen to love you, in case you've forgotten."

"I love you too, Big Brother," she answered.

Harry didn't hear the rest of their conversation, for he'd started back down the hall and up the staircases, pulling out of his own thoughts just long enough to give the password and gain entrance to the common room and flop into his favorite cushy and worn chair.

He was trying to figure out what he'd overheard. Kingsley was worried about his sister. But why? Was Jillian sick? Witches and wizards were usually pretty hearty, but she was part Muggle. Could she have some horrible illness? And if she did, then she was probably straining herself with all the extra lessons she'd been giving Harry. If that were true, then Harry would definitely want her to stop. Is that why she didn't want to tell him? But she seemed perfectly healthy? She'd never missed a day of class or any of their private sessions. He couldn't ask Kingsley because he didn't want them to know he'd eavesdropped on part of their visit.

Harry tried to pay closer attention to her that evening and the next, which was Christmas Eve. But Jillian seemed perfectly fine. She and Tonks were laughing and talking, and engaging a couple of the third-years. There was no way she was ill. So what had he overheard her discussing with Kingsley?

One of the fourth-years had a hundred questions for Harry about Quidditch, which he was trying to answer in between discreet glances at Jillian. Blaise was seated down the opposite end of the table, talking to Professor Slughorn. He looked perfectly miserable. The others were seated near the middle of the table, two talking with Hagrid, and another answering questions posed by Professor McGonagall. Harry couldn't say they were actually having a conversation, for the younger student was beyond nervous at sharing leisure time with the headmistress.

A wisp of silvery white smoke moved through the room. Harry was the only student who recognized it as a non-corporeal Patronus. It passed by him and the message rang clear in his head. It was from Tonks, letting him know that she'd be going to headquarters shortly, but would be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.

Feeling adventurous, Harry silently cast _"Legilimens" _ and managed to project, "Okay. Happy Christmas," to her before she knew what was happening.

Tonks nearly choked on her drink and looked at Harry from her watering eyes as Jillian patted her on the back. He winked and she gave him a small smile, shocked and still trying to catch her breath.

Hours later Harry decided to see if McGonagall was in her office, and more importantly, if the Dumbledore in the portrait was awake. He rounded the corridor that would take him to the gargoyle-guarded entry, but slowed when he heard footsteps trailing behind him. He gripped his wand tightly just as a voice called out.

"Potter," it said, and Harry turned on the spot to see Blaise Zabini approaching him. It was past the ten o'clock curfew McGonagall had extended for the handful of students staying over the break. He was used to having the castle pretty much to himself in the late hours.

"Zabini," said Harry, watching suspiciously as the Slytherin approached him.

They'd never spoken more than a few words to each other. The Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry had been enough to keep them at odds; but Zabini had also been part of Draco's extended entourage. Harry couldn't image what he wanted.

He reached Harry and just stood there, it seemed, in an attempt to size him up.

"What do you want, Zabini?" asked Harry.

He did not answer, but continued to look at Harry, his gaze finally tracing the scar on his forehead. Harry frowned.

Finally, "I do not like you, Potter," he said.

"And you felt the need to tell me this -- because?" replied Harry sarcastically.

"Because I'm still trying to figure out if you're going to be worth the trouble," answered the slanted eyed boy.

"I don't have time to play games with you, Zabini," said Harry, moving to take his leave.

"And I really don't understand why You-Know-Who is so concerned about you," he replied, stopping Harry in his tracks.

"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, his voice going flat and cold as he rounded on Zabini.

Zabini watched him very closely, seeing Harry's eyes narrow and darken.

"You don't have a mother, do you?" he asked Harry.

"Sorry, no, she and Dad were too busy being murdered by Voldemort," said Harry icily. "What's it to you?"

"It's just Mum and me. The husbands have come and gone over the years, but it has always been just us," he said, more to himself than to Harry.

Harry didn't know what was coming next, but he knew he needed to hear it.

"They hurt her," he said in barely above a whisper, anger and pain cracking his voice. "The Death Eaters hurt her."

Harry swallowed and watched Zabini closely.

"How? Why?" asked Harry, knowing that Blaise wasn't playing a game now.

Blaise took a deep breath and told Harry about the Death Eaters attacking his home almost two weeks ago. His mother, famous for her beauty, had been tortured and beaten. She'd lain helpless and wandless for a full day before her brother received an anonymous message, sending him to their home.

"Did your uncle tell you it was the Death Eaters?" asked Harry, his pulse quickening.

"No," said Zabini. "Mum was too injured to talk, then. They told me."

Harry knew who they were.

"How did they contact you?' he asked.

Blaise's face burned with fury, and Harry thought he already knew the answer.

"Draco contacted me. He sent me a letter hours after I'd learned that Mum had been attacked," said Zabini.

"How?"

"We devised a written code in our first year. It's become a bit of a Slytherin tradition of late. Almost every year has its own code. To anyone else, the letter looks like a simple correspondence."

"What did it say, the code I mean," asked Harry.

"It pretty much said they'd kill my mother the next time if I didn't do what they wanted?"

"And what did they want?" asked Harry.

"They wanted me to tell them if you were staying at Hogwarts through the holidays?"

"And did you?" asked Harry, already dreading the answer.

"Yes," he said, without apology.

"Is that why you stayed behind, too?" asked Harry.

He sidestepped Harry's last question.

"I've been in contact with my uncle. He's managed to get my mother out of the country so she can recuperate in peace. As soon as he can, he'll come back for me. I don't know when that will be."

"Why are you telling me this, Zabini?" asked Harry. "You just said you don't like me, so why not help Voldemort get to me?"

"Because I don't want any part of it," he said. "I never have. I told Draco he was getting in over his head, but he wouldn't listen. He was so full of himself in the beginning; but he was terrified in the end. Once you're in with that lot, there's no getting out."

Blaise was quiet for a long moment and then slowly pulled a length of parchment from his pocket. He handed it to Harry, who read through it quickly. It was a nondescript letter that could have been written by some distant pen pal. Not even the signature indicated it could have been from Malfoy.

Harry was frowning at it when Blaise pulled his wand and tapped the page. Instantly, the words began to shift across the page and Harry could make out several startling sentences halfway down the page.

We need to know if he is remaining at school for the holiday break. Fail us and your mother will not survive our next visit.

"The same delivery owl showed up four days later and I sent my reply."

Harry was trying to process everything Blaise was saying, everything he was seeing; but something still wasn't adding up.

"What aren't you telling me, Zabini?" he asked.

"It's double coded," he said, pointing to the two lines haphazardly scratched below the fake signature.

Zabini tapped the page once more and the words and letters shifted again.

At first Harry saw nothing, but then Zabini pointed out the pattern to him and his stomach dropped.

Four words stood out from the four corners of the letter, each formed on an inward diagonal, like a word puzzle.

"_Eve. Privet. Hot. Saint."_

"Are you sure Draco coded this?" asked Harry hurriedly.

"No one else could have. The first code isn't terribly complicated if you know to decipher it; but only Draco, Pansy and I know how to use the second one," he explained.

"Do you know what it means?" he pressed.

"No. None of it means anything, except 'Saint.' It's one of the code words for you."

"Why'd you show this to me?" demanded Harry, moving forward and cornering Blaise, pinning his wand hand against the corridor wall. "Did Malfoy ask you to?"

"No," answered Blaise, trying to regain purchase and maneuver away from the wall, but he couldn't budge Harry.

"Did he know you'd show this to me?" Harry asked very slowly.

"I don't know, Potter," Blaise retorted hotly. "I have no idea what Draco is doing. And I don't know why he dragged me into middle of his mess. All I know is that You-Know-Who wants at you very badly. So, if you truly are 'The Chosen One,' I figured things couldn't get any worse if I showed you. A year ago I wouldn't have cared what happened to you. Honestly, I still don't. But if it's a choice between you or being stalked by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, I'd rather deal with you."

They were quiet, staring at each other for several long moments.

"Go back to your dormitory," Harry finally said, in a voice that left no room for argument, stepping back to allow Blaise to move around him. "Now."

Blaise watched him for a second longer and then turned and retreated in the direction from which he'd approached Harry minutes before.

Harry's Patronus suddenly lit the darkened corridor and sped away. He tore off in the opposite direction, his heart racing and horrible thoughts running through his head. Harry knew exactly what those four words meant. The Death Eaters were going after the Dursleys tonight. Why did Draco include that second message? Was it a trap or a warning? Why would Draco ever warn him of anything? It had to be a trick. But he had to find out. He couldn't sit by and do nothing.

Harry hit the third floor landing and ran down the corridor, sprinting towards the One-Eyed Witch. He was trying to steady his shaking hands when he heard running footsteps and saw DeSousa and Jillian coming from the opposite end.

"Harry, what's wrong?" called DeSousa.

"What's this about your relatives?" asked Jillian anxiously, not the least bit out of breath.

Harry quickly told them what he'd learned from Blaise Zabini, and showed them the decoded letter. They looked at Harry and then one another.

"How do we get to your aunt and uncle's home?" asked DeSousa.

"I know where it is," said Jillian, surprising Harry. "I was your rear guard that day at the fair grounds."

"I'm coming with you," Harry said.

"What if it's just a trap to get you out of the castle?" asked DeSousa. "What if they've ambushed the perimeter guards and are just waiting for you to appear beyond the gates?"

Harry waved his wand and summoned his Invisibility Cloak.

Jillian said nothing. She flicked her own wand, and a second Invisibility Cloak appeared. Harry should have guessed she'd have one.

DeSousa looked like he wanted to argue the point, but he saw the determination in Harry's eyes and knew it would be futile.

"Fine, you two stay covered and follow me," he said, his wand held tightly.

"No," said Harry. "I've got a better way."

Harry moved closer to the statue, and tapped the hump with his wand, silently casting _"Dissendium,"_ and waited while the passage door revealed itself.

"What is…" began Jillian.

"It's a passage way that leads to Hogsmeade, specifically to Honeydukes," said Harry quickly. "The Weasley twins own it now. I'll explain the rest later."

"Once they'd dropped down and Harry closed the entrance once more, DeSousa took the lead, with Harry and Jillian following behind. They ran flat out and did not say another word or stop until they reached the end of the very long tunnel.

Harry lit his wand and illuminated the steps and the trap door above them.

"McGonagall is going to murder us," said DeSousa, and a Patronus in the form of a winged horse shot from his wand and out of sight. "She can contact the others for reinforcement. Let's go."

DeSousa moved first, and climbed through. Jillian and Harry waited until they heard his voice.

"Clear," he said, and they joined him in the darkened cellar of the sweet shop.

Fred and George had indeed emptied the room of its usual stockpile of goods. It now contained two camp beds, a desk and a large wardrobe in a corner. That was it.

"Jillian and I will take the front of the house," said DeSousa. "Can you Apparate inside?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I'll head for my old room."

"Okay. Keep your Cloak on as long as possible."

Seconds later, Harry was standing in the middle of his former bedroom, strong winter winds and snow blowing outside the window at his back. The room looked more like a mini arcade. Dudley had wasted no time in reclaiming it. Harry opened the door and crept into the hall, making his way silently to the top of the staircase.

He'd just touched the first step when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone whimpering.

"I told you to shut up," came a voice from below. "You're the most pathetic bunch of Muggles I've ever seen."

There were others laughing and Harry couldn't tell how many. The voices were coming from the parlor. One joined in and said, "How's about we give 'em something to really cry about?"

A loud moan followed and Aunt Petunia let out an ear-piercing scream. Harry cleared the staircase in two steps, just as the front door burst open and DeSousa and Jillian, now uncloaked, ran through the doorway.

The Death Eater nearest the foyer tried to advance, but it was useless. Jillian moved as fast as lightening and he was down in the blink of an eye.

She and DeSousa turned in tandem as the other Death Eaters scrambled up. Including the one already down, there were seven of them. Harry recognized two, a brother and sister, from last year's attack at Hogwarts.

Still cloaked, Harry had to dodge a misfired spell that had been aimed at DeSousa. DeSousa dove, rolled and came up firing, hitting a second Death Eater square in the chest. He dropped like a bag of rocks, knocking over a floor lamp.

There were five left when Harry dropped his own Cloak and fired at a third Death Eater, sending him careening backwards, his head smashing against the fireplace mantle.

The other Death Eaters began yelling as soon as they saw Harry. They seemed surprised to be under attack, but beyond shocked to see Harry.

Uncle Vernon was flat on his back and unmoving. Aunt Petunia was trying to crawl over him and towards Dudley, who was cowering in a corner beside the Christmas tree, with its blinking lights and piles of unopened gifts beneath it.

Harry was temporarily unfocused and just barely registered the upraised arm of the witch who'd been taunting Dumbledore on the rooftop last June. His reflexes were sharp though, and he deflected her spell and disarmed her with what looked like one motion. Her wand flew to his left hand and he snapped it clean in half against the entry wall.

DeSousa and Jillian began firing rapidly at the remaining Death Eaters, affording Harry enough cover to get into the room and crouch along the walls to the Dursleys. The despicable witch was moving in the opposite direction, seeking refuge behind her fellow Death Eaters.

Harry reached Aunt Petunia and ducked down, a flash of red buzzing inches from where he'd just stood and putting a large hole in the rear wall. He raised his head to see Jillian incapacitate one more Death Eater, the brother to the ugly little witch.

Of the three who were conscience, only two were still armed. Wanting to keep it that way, Harry summoned the wands from the other prone bodies and sent them into the fireplace, which burst alive with flames. The two who were fighting were too busy to notice and there was nothing the witch could do to stop him. Even if they managed to summon the wands, there'd be no way they could hold them now.

Aunt Petunia and Dudley, still several feet apart along the wall, were looking at Harry as though they'd never seen him before. Uncle Vernon finally moaned a few times.

A sharp cry sounded in the room, and Harry saw a tall, thin Death Eater succumb to a combined strike from Jillian and DeSousa.

Only two remained, one useless without a wand. The other was brazen enough to pull the witch in front of him to use as a shield as he tried to force his way through the room, shoving her forward as he neared DeSousa and Jillian, in an attempt to distract them.

It did not work. DeSousa caught the off-balance female Death Eater and knocked her hard to the floor, her head bouncing off the entry tile; while Jillian steadied her wand arm and aimed straight for the oncoming Death Eater. Harry had risen from the floor and cast his own spell at the Death Eater's back, stunning him a second or two before Jillian's curse struck him in the neck. Blood spewed from a gaping wound as if from a spout; and the Death Eater fell in a bloody heap, his body half in the parlor and half in the entrance hall.

It all ended in a matter of minutes, but it had felt like forever. Jillian stepped over the lifeless form before her and had just reached the overturned sofa, when a succession of pops sounded; and she, DeSousa and Harry all turned with their wands raised.

It was Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley, with their own wands poised and ready. Moody surveyed the scene, letting out a long and low whistle.

"Any more?" asked Kingsley.

"Not that we saw. Jillian and I arrived from the front and didn't see anything," said DeSousa. "No one left from in here."

"I can see that," said Kingsley, looking at DeSousa, his sister and finally at Harry.

"I'll go take another look outside and then call for more backup to help clean up in here," said Tonks, walking out the front door and pulling it closed behind her.

It had been open the entire time, and Harry was sure that only the blistering winter storm had kept the noise from carrying to the neighbors.

Lupin was oddly silent and seemed to be at a loss for words. Finally, in a voice that sounded unfamiliarly etched with anger, asked of Jillian and DeSousa, "Why did you bring Harry with you?"

"Lupin, it was my decision," said Harry. "You can't blame Jillian or Andre."

Lupin did not acknowledge anything Harry had just said. He was still looking from Jillian to DeSousa.

"You are both highly trained and well regarded," he said. "Am I to believe you didn't think you could stop a seventeen year old wizard, talented though he is, from coming here?"

Lupin was angrier than Harry had ever seen him. Everyone was watching him and before anyone could say another word, Aunt Petunia made some indiscriminate noise and Harry turned sideways to see her pointing her finger over his shoulder.

He heard it before he even finished looking in the direction in which she was frantically pointing. It was a sharp click. The Death Eater whom Harry had knocked out against the fireplace had regained consciousness. He didn't have a wand, but he apparently had a very sharp switchblade. He'd slid unnoticed several feet and was attempting to stand up when Aunt Petunia saw him.

He wasn't quite close enough to reach Harry or his aunt, but he made a quick grab for Dudley, dragging his bulky frame upright with surprising ease and holding the knife point at Dudley's throat. Harry stepped directly in front of him, blocking the Order members' aim at the Death Eater.

"Step aside, Potter," came Moody's voice, but Harry tuned them all out.

The Death Eater actually smiled sickly and said, "Drop the wand, Potter or I'll slit his throat and then snap his fat neck."

Aunt Petunia was howling and Uncle Vernon had finally come to, sitting up slowly and making a sound like a wounded bull when his brain registered the images before him.

Dudley looked in real danger of having a heart attack. Harry dropped his wand between the distance separating them and the Death Eater didn't seem to know what to do next.

Harry did. The knife suddenly flew from the Death Eater's hand, imbedding itself in the wall on the opposite side of the room.

The Death Eater didn't realize what happened, thinking one of the Order had disarmed him, and was stupid enough to push Dudley aside and go after Harry's wand. He never reached it.

Instead, Harry summoned the base of the tipped over floor lamp into his outstretched arm, and using it as a make shift staff, swung it in an upward arc that caught the Death Eater under the chin just as he stooped for the wand.

You could hear the crack of shattered bone as the Death Eater flew backwards and flipped over a side chair.

DeSousa was stooped over him in an instant, but the Death Eater was out cold.

Harry dropped the lamp base and retrieved his own wand. He could feel the slow burn beneath his skin. It was less muted than it had ever been; but he recognized it. Had he looked in a mirror, he would have seen the heat behind his eyes, as well.

Moody looked repeatedly from the Death Eater to Harry, and broke out in a wicked grin.

Kingsley looked at Harry, too, and then at his sister, with admiration warming his eyes.

DeSousa stood up, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head from side to side.

The Dursleys were simply dumbfounded.

Lupin was looking at no one but Harry.

Jillian however, seemed to think it was the perfect time to answer Lupin's last question and drew everyone's attention.

"I don't know, Lupin," she said in mock innocence. "Do you think you could have stopped him?" she added, the challenge implicit.

Harry knew that Lupin's anger stemmed from nothing but concern for Harry; but he'd clearly irritated Jillian. He watched as her brown eyes flashed copper.

Lupin saw it too, and instead of responding, looked closely from her to Harry, realization dawning upon him.

"Jillian," said Kingsley, in a way only an older brother could.

She closed and reopened her eyes, taking a noticeable breath.

"Lupin, we understand why you are upset," said DeSousa, stepping in and allowing Jillian a moment to calm down. "But we had to act quickly. There wasn't time for long debates."

"Lupin," said Harry again, "they wanted to come alone; but I insisted."

"I don't doubt that, Harry," he said quietly and turned back to the other two.

"But you do realize he could have been killed tonight?" asked Lupin, his anger checked, but his worry clear.

"Look at it this way," said Jillian, calmly this time. "Harry trusted us enough to tell us what happened. He could have panicked and skipped out on his own. What would have happened if he'd walked into all of this alone?"

Lupin sighed, knowing it could have been a real possibility.

"Or, let's say Andre and I did restrain him. What would happen the next time they baited him. Do you think he'd come running to find any of us? My goodness, Lupin, they were threatening his family," she pressed.

Everyone turned to the Dursleys, the three of them now huddled together. Silent tears were cascading down Aunt Petunia's face and Dudley looked to be in shock. Uncle Vernon, in apparent physical pain, wore an expression that was nearly unreadable.

"As horribly as I hear they have always treated him," she continued, "they are still his blood family. They'd probably never do anything to help him; but Harry is nothing like them. You know this better than anyone. There was no way he would have stayed behind. If anything, we should have anticipated this possibility. Voldemort is desperate to have thought this might even possibly lead him to Harry. But he wasn't wrong, was he?"

"Let it go, Lupin," came Moody's voice. "They didn't get Potter tonight and we should be grateful that it worked out in our favor."

"They weren't looking for him," spoke Aunt Petunia from her spot on the floor.

Lupin flicked his wand and the overturned couch returned to its upright position. He stepped forward towards Aunt Petunia, but she flinched. He nodded at Harry, who bent and helped her to her feet, surprised that she did not protest.

Tonks walked back in, tossing Jillian's discarded Cloak to her. Several other Order members that Harry did not know followed behind her and began casting _"Incarcerous,"_ ropes materializing and binding the surviving, still unconscious Death Eaters.

"I've been in contact with Scrimgeour," said Tonks. "He wants this lot bound and held in the Ministry dungeons. He's not all that confident about the remaining security at Azkaban."

"That's probably a smart move," said Moody. "Can you oversee transport?"

"It's already taken care of," replied Tonks. "We've got one Apparation point open in the Ministry. Aurors are on stand by for us, now."

"Good work," he told her. "Get them out of here."

"See you all, later. Bye, Harry," she said.

And one by one, they watched as each Death Eater, alive or not, vanished with an accompanying member of the Order.

DeSousa had gone to the kitchen and gotten a glass of water for Aunt Petunia. He'd sensed this Muggle gesture might put her more at ease than having a glass pop out from nowhere.

She accepted it and drank slowly. She looked up as she finished, and this time, did not flinch when Lupin walked slowly towards her.

"Mrs. Dursley," he said, in his usual calm and reassuring voice, "what did you mean when you said they weren't here for Harry?"

"They were talking to each other. They were planning to kill Vernon, bec…" she stuttered and had to take a moment to compose herself. "because he wasn't a blood relative and they thought it would send a clear message. They were planning to take Dudley and me somewhere else."

"They wanted to use you to lure Harry somewhere else," finished Lupin for her.

She nodded and looked at Harry.

"This is all your fault," croaked Uncle Vernon at Harry from the floor, as no one had bothered to help him or Dudley up.

"You should really shut up," said Harry darkly, his gaze drilling into his uncle's and his wand arm twitching.

Uncle Vernon had seen enough this one night to finally understand he had absolutely no power over Harry any longer. He fell silent.

"Lupin," said Harry, "we can't…"

"I know, Harry," he said. "We need to get them out of here. Do not worry. We'll take care of everything. But we need to see to you, first."

"We can take him back, Lupin," said DeSousa.

"No, Harry's coming with the rest of us," he said, and turned to see the refusal forming on Harry's face, but he spoke again before Harry could say one word.

"Harry, I understand why you do not want to stay there, but this really isn't up for debate," he said. "When Voldemort finds out that his plan fell apart and that he lost seven Death Eaters, he is going to strike back. We need you insulated. And you and I need to discuss some things."

Harry knew he was right, but he still didn't like it. He nodded grudgingly.

"Andre and I will head back to Hogwarts," said Jillian. "We'll fill in McGonagall and the others on premise."

"Good," replied Lupin. "We'll be in touch, and thank you both. I am sorry about earlier. I know you would have done anything to protect him."

"It's forgotten," said Jillian. "See you later, Harry."

"Bye, Jillian. Bye, Andre," he called. "You two were amazing. I owe you big time. Thanks."

"You were pretty damn amazing, yourself," said DeSousa.

They smiled and vanished in quick succession.

"Kingsley," said Lupin, "Would you escort Harry, please?"

"Of course," he said. "Grab you Cloak, Potter."

Harry moved forward, but Aunt Petunia called out.

"Wait," she said, leaving the couch and walking on shaking legs to the Christmas tree.

She knelt beside it and used her arm to fish out something from beneath its depth. She stood with a package in her hands and walked a few paces to stand in front of Harry. She could not meet his eyes as she spoke quietly.

"It's for you," she said, extending the package towards him.

Harry did not reach for it.

"They were hers," she continued. "Some of your mother's things."

Harry was frozen.

"They were Lily's," she finally managed and slowly raised her eyes to his.

Harry would have been less shocked if she'd slapped him or sprouted horns. He'd lived with her for nearly sixteen years and she had never spoken his mother's name, her sister's name, more than once or twice.

His arm seemed to move all on its own and his hand wrapped around the outstretched box. But Harry could not take his eyes off hers. He did not know what to think or how to react. He couldn't. Too much had happened for far too long. Still, he knew how incredibly hard a gesture this was for her to make, and he did not understand what motivated her.

Uncle Vernon was staring at his wife as though she'd been taken over by aliens. Dudley still had the same lost look in his eyes.

Aunt Petunia's eyes welled once more as she looked at Harry. There was very little she could say. She too, knew too much had happened. With a trembling hand, she reached out and brushed the hair from his forehead, revealing his scar.

"Be careful," she said, with one tear finally breaking the surface as she turned and hurried out of the room and up the staircase.

Lupin and Moody stood silently while Kingsley retrieved Harry's Cloak from the entrance hall and handed it to him. Harry went through the motions of putting it on, but his mind was elsewhere. Kingsley knew this. He simply grabbed Harry tightly by the upper arm and moments later, they were standing in front of the spot that would soon reveal itself as number twelve, Grimmauld Place.


	21. Chapter 21: The Best Gift Ever

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE BEST GIFT EVER

Harry found himself standing beside Kingsley in the middle a block, looking up as number twelve Grimmauld Place revealed itself. The front door opened and Harry stepped through it, pulling off his Cloak and facing a relieved looking Mr. Weasley.

"Oh, thank Merlin," he said, closing the door once Kingsley had followed. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied, sincerely happy to see him but dreading having to discuss everything that happened tonight.

"It's getting late, Potter," said Kingsley. "Why don't you go on up. I'll speak with Arthur and the others."

"Right, thanks," he said and turned to make his way along the hall to the staircase, but hesitated.

He did not want to walk up that staircase. He did not want to see the mounted heads of house elves or any other Black family relics. What he most wanted was for his godfather to come walking into the foyer to greet him, but he knew that would never happen again.

"Harry," said Kingsley again, somehow knowing what was going through his head, "it's the same room you shared with Ron last time. Go ahead and Apparate. I doubt you'll be waking him."

Harry nodded, let out a slow breath and vanished from the doorway.

Ron was indeed awake and had been pacing the room when Harry appeared from nowhere. He wasn't alone. Fred, George and Ginny were with him.

"Mate, you gave us one hell of a scare," said George. "We were all downstairs when a Patronus whizzed through the room."

"The next thing we knew, Lupin and the others were out the door and Mum was yelling for them to get to you before it was too late," added Fred.

Ginny and Ron hadn't said a word. They were both watching Harry and he could see the signs of worry still etched in their faces.

"I'm fine," said Harry, for the second time in minutes, putting down his Cloak and the gift box from Aunt Petunia.

He may have avoided facing the rest of the Order for now, but there was no avoiding the Weasley siblings in front of him.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked, not wanting to have to repeat this story.

"She went home this afternoon," Ron answered. "She wanted to spend some time with her parents. A couple of Order members escorted her. She'll be back sometime tomorrow."

Harry nodded and looked at his watch. It had felt like the longest night, but less than an hour and a half had passed since he'd set off for McGonagall's office. Christmas Day would arrive in roughly fifteen minutes.

He sat down on the edge of one of the double beds and told them nearly everything that happened. He left out some parts, as Ginny and the twins were in the dark about a few things.

"Harry, you've got more lives than a cat," said George.

"We're glad you're all right," said Fred.

"I can't believe he went after the Dursleys," said Ron.

"He did," said Harry, but he looked at Ginny as he said so.

He needed to see that she understood everything he'd been trying to say to her since Dumbledore's funeral. She did.

"We'll let you get some rest, Harry," she said, rising and walking to the doorway, the twins behind her.

When they were gone, Harry stretched out on his back, removed his glasses and covered his eyes with the back of his right forearm.

"Do you feel like telling me the rest of it?" asked Ron, knowing that his best friend hadn't divulged everything.

Harry did so, never once moving from his spot on the bed.

Ron listened, but didn't do or say anything to add to Harry's anxieties, even though he had tons of questions.

"Well, it's Christmas morning," he commented, walking a few steps to retrieve the gift box that was hidden under Harry's Cloak. "Do you want to open it?"

"Yes and no," said Harry.

"It's here if you want," said Ron, tossing the package on the bed. "I'll go bunk with Fred and George for the night."

Harry finally sat up on his elbows.

"Ron, you don't have to leave," said Harry.

"Don't sweat it," answered Ron, as he too, moved towards the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

Harry had no idea how long he sat motionless in the room, looking at the ceiling.

He dozed off at some point and awoke in the early morning hours, almost forgetting where he was. He sat up and his left hand brushed the still unopened gift box.

He looked at it and pulled it slowly towards him. Harry pulled at the red ribbon tied neatly around it, and tore slowly at the wrapping paper. Inside was a small cardboard box. He removed the lid and found an assortment of items.

Roughly two hours later, Harry was swallowing a lump in his throat. The box contained several letters his parents had written one another during their last year at Hogwarts. It also held a diary of his mother's from her third year away from home. There was an entry after Easter, where she was really upset because she'd lost something very valuable and irreplaceable. You could feel her distress in the written words. Harry also found lots of pictures of her, ranging from the time she was a little girl until she was about Harry's age. She'd been very pretty, indeed.

At the bottom was a jewelry box. Harry opened it and found a very old and beautiful pair of emerald earrings. There was a note with it. Lily had inherited the earrings from her grandmother. Her grandfather had thought them the perfect gift for his bride on their wedding day because the uniquely colored gems so closely resembled the color of her eyes. As Lily had been the only family member to inherit her grandmother's eyes, her grandmother had always intended them for her. They were the exact color of Harry's own eyes.

For a moment, Harry couldn't understand how Aunt Petunia had ended up with them. There was no way his mother would have left those behind in her family's home. And then it hit him. This was the irreplaceable gift that had been lost. But the earrings hadn't been lost. Aunt Petunia, probably brooding, envious and angry, had taken them during a holiday visit. Harry wondered if his mother had ever suspected the truth.

More than anything, he was amazed that Aunt Petunia had included them in the items she'd finally given to him. He didn't think he'd ever know why she did so; he only knew he was grateful that she had. Beyond that, he didn't really care to examine his feelings regarding the Dursleys. He would do what he could to keep them out of harm's way; but beyond that, he couldn't say. He'd believed that chapter of his life was finally closed.

A knock sounded and in walked Lupin, with a valise levitating before him.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," he said pleasantly. "McGonagall had Dobby pack a few things for you."

"Happy Christmas, Lupin," replied Harry. "Thanks."

"The others are slowly stirring," said Lupin. "But I wanted to talk to you alone, first."

Harry knew he was going to have to account for his actions last night.

"Sorry, Lupin," said Harry. "I didn't mean to upset any of you."

Lupin looked at him for a moment before responding.

"I know you did not," he said. "Nor did I intend to react as I did last night. I am relieved you went to Jillian and Andre. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about what we would find when we arrived. I was afraid that I'd failed to protect you as Dumbledore or Sirius would have and terrified that we might have lost you."

Harry was touched. Lupin was the last link to the family he should have had.

"I let my emotions get the better of me," he confessed. "I shouldn't have taken it out on them, as Jillian so eloquently pointed out."

Harry smiled and Lupin actually laughed.

"She's got a bit of fire in her," he said.

"Yeah, she does," agreed Harry.

"And a few other talents, I take it," said Lupin casually, still smiling.

Harry knew Lupin hadn't missed anything that transpired last night.

"One could say that," said Harry coyly.

"Well, you handled yourself exceptionally well last night, so whatever she and any others are doing with you, it is impressive."

"It's been an interesting term," said Harry.

"I'm sure it has been," he said. "Now, about that tunnel…"

"Is McGonagall going to seal it?" asked Harry.

"Well, I imagine she would probably wish to do so if she knew about it," he said, his dark eyes dancing mischievously.

"You're not going to tell her," said Harry.

Lupin shook his head.

"She assumed Jillian and Andre snuck you across the grounds and out the gates, and we have not told her otherwise. I do not like keeping this from her; but I do believe she would insist on shutting it off and that would likely be a mistake."

Harry was shocked.

"I talked with Ron and the twins last night after I arrived, and with Jillian briefly this morning. We know all about the revamped D.A."

"Oh," said Harry.

"Actually, McGonagall was the first to suspect it. She did not think it was a bad idea, especially given the lack of extracurricular activities this year."

Harry really wasn't surprised to hear that.

"Jillian had already heard about the D.A. from Tonks and Kingsley," continued Lupin. "She realized it was in full swing again when she saw inexplicable improvement in a couple of students who'd been struggling severely since the start of term. It seems you are quite the instructor, Harry."

Harry felt his face flush and Lupin smiled slightly before turning more serious.

"What we did not know until I spoke to Ron last night was that you have marked escape routes to the tunnel corridor from various points within the school."

"Yes, we have," admitted Harry, waiting for the reproach he thought was coming.

"It's a brilliant idea, Harry," said Lupin. "It really is. I told Moody about the tunnel when we learned Fred and George acquired Honeydukes. We should have realized they wouldn't have waited to inform you."

This time, Harry was surprised.

"The tunnel access needs to be secured on Honeydukes' end however, just like we did at the Burrow. I know it's fairly well hidden, but we absolutely cannot take any chances. Not only does it afford you a way out, it provides an escape route for Fred and George in an emergency. And it is also the perfect unmarked path for the Order stationed in Hogsmeade to get to you, if necessary."

"That makes sense," said Harry.

"Good, then everyone is in agreement," he said. "And again, I hate to have forced you back here, but..."

"It's fine, Lupin," interrupted Harry. "You're right. Voldemort will be out to make a point once he learns what became of his Death Eaters."

"Well, that's likely to be rather soon," said Lupin, pulling his wand and summoning a copy of the morning's Daily Prophet.

Staring out from the front page was an image of Minister Scrimgeour, with four shackled Death Eaters behind him. The headline read, _"Voldemort's Ranks Diminished in Thwarted Attack."_ The article went on to confirm that three other Death Eaters had been killed in a confrontation that took place in a Muggle suburb.

"Scrimgeour was not told that you were present, although he does know the attack happened at your aunt and uncle's home."

Harry nodded, but continued reading the article, anyway.

"I guess there was no way to delay him, then," said Harry, referring to Scrimgeour.

"No," said Lupin. "He's been hungry for anything that proves the Ministry is making headway. There could be no better story to wake up to on Christmas morning."

"And what about the Dursleys?" inquired Harry.

"They are still close by for now, but safe. It seems the company that employs your uncle is part of an international corporation. We're working with Xavier Shacklebolt's staff to arrange a temporary job transfer to the U.S. for Mr. Dursley. They should be relocated within a few days."

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Lupin," he said. "So, now what?"

"Well, I thought you might like to finally see this," he said, flicking his wand.

A moment later, Sirius's motorcycle was taking up most of the space in the center of the room. Harry stood and gaped at it. It was large and shining and looked to be in excellent condition.

Lupin smiled once more at Harry, who was completely mesmerized by the bike, and said, "I wish he were here to see the look on your face."

Harry took a second to look at him and said, "Me, too."

"I'll leave you alone. When you're ready, you can come downstairs and enjoy Christmas with the rest of us. Moody and I will work out when to get you back to Hogwarts; but in the meantime, this is home."

Harry nodded as Lupin walked from the room and closed the door.

He moved to the bike and ran his hands over every inch of it. He couldn't find a single scratch, ding or flaw anywhere on it. Harry finally straddled the leather seat and smiled broadly. He had absolutely no problem imagining Sirius riding it. He pictured a grin on his godfather's face and his hair whipping about in the wind. He could even hear his bark-like laugh and voice in his head.

"_It seems to fit you, as well,"_ he imagined him saying.

Harry could have stayed upstairs on the bike all day, but that wasn't really an option.

When he'd changed his clothes and no longer looked like he'd been in a fight, Harry made his way downstairs.

To his immense relief, he saw that most of the hideous Black family heirlooms and creepy wall mounted relics had been removed. The hall walls had all been stripped of the ancient and peeling wallpaper and painted in warm tones. The woodwork had been polished to a high gleam and Christmas decorations were everywhere.

He reached the kitchen and found Mr. Weasley and Bill sitting at the table. The kitchen looked nothing like the depressing hall he'd remembered. Mrs. Weasley had truly worked magic in here, as well.

"Happy Christmas," Harry said from the doorway.

Mrs. Weasley was at the stove; but turned when she heard him, dropping the spoon she'd been holding and hurrying over to embrace him.

"Harry, dear," she said, tears threatening to overspill. "We were so worried. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm okay, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "Really."

Harry took a seat next to Bill, who passed him a cup of coffee, catching his eye as he did.

He'd gotten Harry's package. Harry nodded once as he took a sip from his cup.

The rest of the Weasleys, Kingsley, Moody, Lupin and Tonks all trickled in for a light breakfast and an enjoyable session of gift exchanges.

By afternoon, the house was filled with incredible smells from the kitchen. Everyone was gathered in the drawing room. They'd decided to eat a little later than normal, wanting to wait for Hermione to join them. Harry was talking with Moody and Kingsley.

A flash of blue sparks lit the room and Moody rose from his chair.

"They should be arriving shortly," he said, heading for the entry hall.

"Is Jillian joining us?" asked Harry of Kingsley.

"No," he answered. "She's decided to stay at the school."

Harry hesitated for a moment, but finally asked quietly, "Kingsley, is she all right?"

Kingsley looked closely at Harry, but did not answer him directly. Instead he inquired, "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. She's been a bit quiet lately. I mean she's great in class, but sometimes she looks – I don't know, really, – a little sad, I guess," he heard himself saying, realizing that it was the truth. "It's not everyday or anything; but sometimes she seems miles away."

Kingsley seemed to be debating on how to answer Harry.

"Jillian has her own issues, like anyone else. It's not my place to divulge them for her. I do appreciate you asking, though," said Kingsley and then lowered his voice. "She's okay, Harry. But if these moments are interfering with your lessons, then you should tell me."

Harry knew he wasn't talking about regular class.

"No, they aren't," he said. "How long have you known?"

"I obviously know what Jillian can do," answered Kingsley. "And I know Dumbledore reached out to her a number of times. I had my suspicions, but I really wasn't certain until after your little demonstration last night and Jillian's remarks."

It wouldn't be long before the whole Order knew. But Harry wasn't worried. They'd guard his secrets as closely as they guarded him.

"Moody's still tickled and I don't think I've ever known Andre to be at a loss for words," added Kingsley.

Harry looked up when her heard the front door being opened. Hermione walked in, flanked by two of the Order members who'd joined Tonks last night at the Dursleys. Her escorts spoke briefly with Moody in hushed tones and left immediately back out the front door.

Hermione called out a rushed "Happy Christmas," to everyone and made a beeline for Harry, grabbing him by the elbow and urging him from his seat next to Kingsley.

"Sorry, Kingsley," she said. "but I need a word with him."

"Not a problem," said Kingsley

Alone in the corridor, she pulled her copy of the Daily Prophet and waved it at Harry.

"Imagine my surprise when Pig showed up before I left with a very short note telling me it happened at number four, Privet Drive and that you were there," she said, looking very much like she wanted to rap him about the head.

"Hi, Hermione. How was your visit with your parents?" he asked lightly.

Hermione did not crack a smile. Harry wanted to rap someone about the head, too—Ron. Instead, he filled her in as quickly as possible on everything that happened last night.

"Oh, Harry," she said, her upset at him gone as she rushed forward and hugged him tightly.

She was actually shaking. Harry wanted very much to tell her everything would be okay. But he couldn't. He didn't believe it himself. Ron's voice drew their attention.

"Hey, if I didn't know any better, I'd be getting really jealous right about now," he said, making the goofiest face he could. "There's been quite a bit of that going on."

Harry was ready to have a go at him for setting Hermione on edge with that note, but he couldn't do anything but laugh, now. Hermione did the same.

"Come on you two," said Ron "Everything's ready."

The afternoon turned into a quiet and peaceful evening. Everyone seemed to grasp that there might not be too many more moments like this one. Fleur and Bill were nearest the fireplace. Fred, George and Ginny were laughing at Crookshanks, who was chasing a small ball that Fed kept making vanish and reappear. Ron and Hermione were talking to Tonks and Kingsley.

Harry was sitting on the floor, facing two wing chairs occupied by Moody and Lupin, listening to them tell stories from days long gone. He was as far away from the still hanging tapestry of the Black family tree as he could possibly be. Once again, they'd placed a huge Christmas tree in front of it, blocking a great deal of it from view.

It was late when Tonks decided to head back to Hogwarts. Lupin rose to see her off. Finally, when the yawns could no longer be stifled, one by one, everyone else began moving upstairs to bed.

It wasn't long before Harry, Ron and Hermione were left alone with Moody.

"It's all yours," he said to them, getting up to make a final security sweep before retiring.

They trio all had the same questions. Why had Draco double coded his message to Blaise? Was Draco in trouble himself? Where was Snape? What would Voldemort do next? Unfortunately, they had no answers to any of them.

When their heads were near exploding, they too, decided to call it a night and headed out the room and along the hall to the staircase. They'd barely started up when Crookshanks suddenly darted down the stairs, nearly tripping Ron who'd been the first one headed up, causing him to bang into the wall to catch his balance.

They knew it was coming. From behind the drawn curtain, came a voice they all hated. It was the portrait of Sirius's mother, and it had been mercifully quiet since Harry first arrived, but not now.

"_Blood traitors, half breeds, and Mudbloods have taken over my home! Oh, the shame! Oh, the disgrace!"_

Harry was oh so not in the mood for this. He turned and walked to the curtain, ripping it open and exposing the sick and twisted looking portrait of Walburga Black. Hermione and Ron were frozen where they stood, afraid to set her off anymore and wake up the entire house.

She stared at Harry, her eyes narrowing with recognition and then she started on another tirade, in a loud, angry and possessed sounding whisper.

"_And you – you little mongrel – you dare stand in my house, looking just like him. I told Sirius he would regret the day he ever befriended that blood traitor, Potter. And I was right. Look where it got Sirius. But did my moronic son learn his lesson? No, he turned around and picked right up with you. He left you everything that was ever mine and you aren't even fit to stand before me,"_ she spat, her mad eyes rolling in her head.

"I think you have that backwards," said Harry gravely. "Why don't we do something about it?"

His anger was boiling. Harry had not wanted to come here and he'd been trying so hard to keep his emotions in check since arriving, but she'd just pushed him over the edge. If the Order didn't need this place, he'd probably burn it to the ground. Instead, he decided to start with one spot.

Before anyone knew what was happening, a huge ball of red flames erupted within the confines of the portrait. It's inhabitant shrieked, and try as she might, she could do nothing to extinguish it. Harry watched, unblinking, as she ran from the portrait and vanished.

He looked up to find Ron and Hermione watching him, their mouths wide open. They looked from him, to the portrait, and back to Harry, again.

He wasn't done. Still fuming, he decided now was as good a time as any to destroy that hideous tapestry. Harry turned on the spot and marched back into the drawing room. Ron and Hermione, realizing what he was probably about to try to do, followed after him.

With a wave of his hand, he moved the Christmas tree across the room without so much as a second glance and stood in front of the tapestry. Harry walked forward, and with trembling fingers, touched the spot where Sirius's name had been blasted away.

"Harry," called Hermione, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Harry," she said again, much more urgently, pulling at the sleeve of his shirt.

He turned to her and couldn't quite describe the look on her face. She gasped and pointed at the spot nearest to where Sirius's name was once visible. Harry blinked to make sure he hadn't misread it. He hadn't.

It read _Regulus Black_. Or R.B. Could it be R.A.B? Sirius's younger brother had been a Death Eater. He'd tried to get out, but had been killed for his troubles. They'd been searching for a R.A.B. or R.B. who could have gotten close enough to Voldemort to learn about a Horcrux. It absolutely had to be him.

"All this time," said Ron, "and the answer has been hanging on this stupid thing. I was actually going to start with 'Bl' when we got back after break. Unbelievable."

"Sshh," said Hermione, and Harry could see she was trying to recall something.

"Oh, no," she said, covering her mouth with her hands.

"What?" asked Harry.

"When we were last here, Mrs. Weasley had us cleaning out the drawing room," she said reluctantly. "We ended up chucking out all kinds of junk."

Harry's felt lightheaded. He remembered. They'd come across an old locket that no one could open and had thrown it in the pile to be discarded.

"We threw it out," he said, in total disbelief, feeling physically sick. "Please tell me we didn't."

No one spoke. Harry still felt ill. Ron had gone pale and Hermione looked on the verge of screaming.

Something was gnawing at the back of Harry's mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Where was the Pensieve when he could have used it? Of course, it would only help if he knew what memory he needed.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, unconsciously tapping the back of his head against the tapestry. He took long, slow, deep breaths, trying to slow down his heart rate and clear his mind of everything that was hurdling through it.

Bit by bit, he mulled through the time he'd spent here two years ago. Just when he was ready to give up and pull his hair out, something clicked and he moved so quickly that he startled Ron and Hermione.

"Kreacher," he said.

It took a few moments, but then it registered for both of them.

They ran from the room, across the hall and down into the darkened kitchen. Wall lanterns lit as they made their way to the cupboard that housed the boiler and had once been Kreacher's quarters.

Ron pulled the door open and they each used their wands to light the tight and cramped space. It did not appear as though Mrs. Weasley had been in here anytime recently. The air was stale, moldy and smelled of old cheese and something far less pleasant.

"We can't all fit in there," said Hermione. "I'll go. I'm smaller than either of you."

She dropped to her stomach and inched forward, using her wand light to illuminate the space between the bottom of the boiler and the filthy floor.

"Aughh!!" she cried.

"What!" said Ron and Harry, ready to pull her back.

"Trust me," she said. "You don't want to know."

Ron rolled his eyes.

Harry and Ron provided her with more light so she could use her own wand tip to probe beneath the debris and clutter. Minutes went by, and Harry thought he'd been holding his breath the entire time.

She finally slid back out, dirt and grime covering her sweater and smudging the left side of her face; but nothing could mask the glint in her eyes. Dangling from the length of her wand was a dull gold chain, on which hung a very grimy and old locket.

"We had no problem touching it last time," she said. "We only tossed it because no one could open it."

Ron pulled her to her feet and she let the locket slide from her wand to Harry's outstretched hand. It was heavy.

He turned it over. The locket was filthy. Hermione shone her wand light against it and Harry could just make out the outline of an ornate "S" beneath all the years of dirt.

"Is that it?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, it is," said Harry, still in disbelief.

"It's been here all along," said Hermione.

"Well, if we can touch it, doesn't that mean Regulus destroyed the Horcrux?" asked Ron.

"Not necessarily," said Harry. "If we could open it, then I'd say yes, he had. But I don't think he got around to it before he was murdered."

"But no one was able to open it," said Hermione. "I wonder what spell Voldemort used?"

"I don't know," said Harry.

For the next half hour, they ran through every single spell they could think of, but nothing worked. They sat quietly around the kitchen table.

"I need to go back to Hogwarts," said Harry.

"Now?" asked Hermione.

Harry looked at his watch. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning. Everyone else was sound asleep, and Harry knew that Ron and Hermione were as exhausted as he was.

"I'll wait until the morning," said Harry reluctantly.

"Good," said Ron, "because I was really starting to wonder how comfortable a bed this table might make."

It was three hours later when Harry woke up, the locket Horcrux still in his hand. He could hear Ron's deep breathing from the other bed. Harry dressed quickly and crept quietly from the room. He walked downstairs to the kitchen and found it empty.

He waited as long as he could and when he couldn't stand to watch the time tick by any longer, pulled his wand and watched as his Patronus shot forward and disappeared from the room. Harry had barely begun pacing when Lupin and Moody Apparated before him. They were fully dressed and clear eyed.

"What's wrong, Harry?" inquired Lupin.

"I need to go back to Hogwarts, now," he said.

"Correction," came Hermione's voice from the doorway, with a still half asleep Ron standing next to her, "we need to go back to Hogwarts."

Moody and Lupin were watching all three of them.

"If you've left something you need, Potter, we can…"

"No, it's nothing like that," he said.

"This can't wait?" asked Lupin.

"I was ready to knock on your door at three this morning," answered Harry.

Moody and Lupin exchanged glances, but asked no other questions.

"I'll have someone secure Honeydukes," said Moody as he passed between Ron and Hermione on his way from the room. "You can alert Jillian to be standing by at the castle."

"Very well," replied Lupin.

"Harry, get your Cloak, please. We'll leave once we're signaled," added Lupin, disappearing on the spot, no doubt upstairs to fill in Kingsley and to contact Jillian.

It wasn't very long before the five of them, with Harry still hidden, made their way through the long, winding tunnel back to Hogwarts.

Lupin waved his wand and light filtered in from the opening in the statue as they climbed through. Jillian, Tonks and DeSousa were all standing by, wands drawn. Harry removed his Cloak.

"Couldn't stay away, Harry?" asked Tonks.

"I guess not," he answered.

"Molly will arrange to have your things sent back later today," Tonks added to the trio.

"You can head upstairs," Jillian said to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Professor McGonagall wants to see the rest of us."

"Has something happened?" asked Harry, hearing something odd in Jillian's voice.

"What is it?" asked Lupin, looking at Tonks.

"Voldemort staged another successful breakout at Azkaban late last night," said DeSousa. "I guess he didn't like yesterday's headline. Lucius Malfoy was among the escapees, along with a few other rather nasty pieces of work."

"Let's go," said Moody. "You three watch yourselves."

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood rooted to the spot, watching the Order make their way down the corridor and out of sight.

"That was not good news," said Ron.

"No, it wasn't," said Harry, wondering what other surprise Voldemort had waiting around the next corner.

They reached the empty common room and Harry headed straight for the dormitory.

"What are we going to do, now?" asked Hermione.

"I'm in the mood for a little Quidditch," answered Harry.

"Quidditch?" said Ron, his brow raised.

"Yep," answered Harry, putting on a jacket and grabbing his Firebolt and the Quidditch set he'd gotten for his birthday. "Get your broom, Ron. We could use your help, Hermione."

She was looking at Harry and trying to figure out what he could possibly be planning.

Once they'd gotten past Kipling and covered a few meters of school grounds, Harry began walking in the opposite direction from the Quidditch pitch.

"Umh, Harry," began Ron.

"We're going into the forest," he said before Ron even finished asking the question.

They walked on and on, and Hermione had a suspicion about where they might be headed, but she hadn't figured out why. Sure enough, they stopped in the clearing where trees had been ripped from the ground.

Harry bent down and opened the Quidditch set. He removed the two beaters' bats and handed them to Ron. Next, he pulled the locket from his pocket, and with a nonverbal sticking charm, secured it to one of the Bludgers. He freed the struggling Bludger from its chain and held it securely under one arm.

"Would you mind closing that back up, Hermione?" he asked.

She did as asked and finished just as Harry mounted his Firebolt and rose straight up in the air.

"Coming, Ron?" he asked, and waited until Ron hovered beside him.

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Hermione.

"Waiting for your friend to join us," he said and was glad he was feet away from Hermione when she gave him a rather dirty look.

They did not have to wait very long. They each heard his heavy footfalls long before he reached the clearing.

"Pass me a bat, Ron," said Harry.

Grawp entered the clearing and it took him a minute to realize he had visitors. He hadn't noticed Ron, but Harry was hovering nearly eye level to the giant, directly above Hermione. Grawp was looking at him quizzically.

"Say something, Hermione," urged Harry.

"Hi, Grawp," she yelled from the ground, finally getting the giant's attention.

"Hermy," he said, clearly happy to see her. "Hermy visit Grawp."

"Yes," said Hermione, slowly stepping back in case Grawp decided to make a grab at her. "Harry is here, too."

"Hermy and Hery," he said, looking at Harry again, with his yellow teeth showing through what was supposed to be a smile.

"Do you want to play a game with us, Grawp?" asked Harry.

"Oh, you really have gone mental," yelled Ron from the other side of the clearing.

Grawp noticed him then.

"Red," he said and Hermione laughed.

"Yes, Grawp," she shouted. "Red is our friend."

"Ron," called Harry, as he released the Bludger that zoomed directly at him.

Ron belted it back at Harry, who caught it and held it once more.

"Grawp wanna play," said the giant.

"Okay. It'll be me and you against Ron," said Harry, flying closer to the giant. "You have to hit the ball back to Ron."

"Hit ball to Red," repeated Grawp.

"Ron, if he hits it, dive out of the way," said Harry. "I'll flank him and cover anything he misses."

Ron laughed and said, "Yep, you're stark raving mad."

"Be careful," yelled Hermione, both amazed and terrified by Harry's idea.

Harry really was playing a dangerous game. He not only had to watch the Bludger and return every swing Grawp missed, but he had to avoid being swiped out of the air by Grawp's massive arms. The giant was swinging wildly and was as excited as a little kid.

Harry was growing numb from the cold when Ron sent a perfectly straight swing right at Grawp. Harry could see the giant lining up for a direct hit with his massive fist.

"Get down, now, Ron," he yelled, but Ron had seen it too and was already diving for the ground.

They landed, dismounted and were pulling Hermione flat to the ground when they heard Grawp make contact with the Bludger.

It sounded as if a cannon had gone off. The Bludger soared beyond the clearing and Harry was amazed it was still in one piece. But the trees were dense beyond the clearing and in seconds, they heard the Bludger smash into one of the ancient trees.

The explosion that followed made the one in the trophy room look like a Muggle fireworks display. Grawp wanted to find his new toy and took off into the line of trees.

Ron gave his broom to Hermione and grabbed the Quidditch set from the ground. They had to jog to keep up with Grawp.

When they caught up to him, he was standing at the end of a line of fallen and badly broken and destroyed trees. The Bludger had not survived the second impact and Grawp looked like he wanted to cry.

"I'll get you another one, Grawp," said Harry, stepping over huge fallen branches and large pieces of bark.

The giant was holding what remained of the Bludger and as he turned it around in his hands, Harry saw two sides of the locket. It was open.

"Wow," said Ron.

"Can I have that, Grawp?" asked Hermione, as she stood beside Harry.

"For Hermy," said Grawp, pleased to give her a present.

"Thank you," she said. "It's the best present I've ever gotten."

And indeed it was. They'd actually found and destroyed two Horcruxes.

Harry let out a slow breath and admitted, "I wasn't so sure that was going to work."

"Fine time to tell us," said Ron and they all grinned.

They turned when they heard barking and running footsteps. It was Hagrid, his crossbow loaded and ready, with Fang on his heels.

"Harry. Ron. Hermione. What are yeh three doing in here? What's going on? Grawp, what did you do?"

"It's okay, Hagrid. Grawp was just helping us out with something."

"I believe we warned you to stay out of our forest that last time we crossed paths," came a voice from behind a huge maple tree. "You never cease to amaze us with your gall."

It was Bane, his displeasure at finding them in the forest more than apparent. Magorian soon followed him.

"Hagrid," said the older centaur.

"Hello, Magorian," said Hagrid, keeping Bane in his line of sight.

"Tell me human," said Bane, turning to Harry, "why do you continue to reek havoc in our home."

"My apologies," said Harry. "I'd be happy to plant a few new trees for you."

"Can you plant a new member of our herd, as well?" retorted Bane. "Maybe the next one won't be a traitor like its predecessor, Firenze."

"Firenze didn't betray yeh," growled Hagrid. "He was only helpin' out Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore is no more," said Magorian simply. "Yet Firenze remains at the school."

"Well, what'd yeh expect?" asked Hagrid. "Yeh nearly killed him once before. He'd be a fool to come back."

"You are right," said Bane. "He would be. Firenze will never be welcomed back among us. He should have never aligned himself with you."

"And who are you aligned with?" asked Harry, his annoyance growing by the second.

"No one, Harry Potter," said Magorian. "It is the way of the centaurs. We do not mix with humans."

"I hope that continues to work out for you," said Harry, more than ready to leave.

"What do you mean by that?" snapped Bane.

"Drop it, Harry," said Ron, but Harry's patience was in short supply these days.

"I mean you are the ones who are delusional if you believe you can just sit by while the Wizarding world is torn apart."

Hermione, still standing next to him, grabbed his hand.

"How dare you," railed Bane. "We centaurs are an ancient race…"

"Yeah, we've heard it all before," sniped Harry. "I hope it does you a world a good if Voldemort wins."

"The Dark One does not concern us," said Magorian.

"He should," said Harry. "Because if he prevails, there's not a snowball's chance in hell he's going to let you live happily ever after in your little forest. You'll be lucky if he doesn't mark you as food for the giants. Grawp's an innocent. You should see the others."

"Well, isn't it your charge to stop him?" jabbed Bane.

"It won't be for lack of trying," said Harry. "Too bad you won't be able to say the same thing."

With that, Harry turned without so much as a backward glance and headed out of the forest, Hermione and Ron beside him. They knew Hagrid and Fang wouldn't be far behind, Hagrid probably walking backward until they reached the school grounds.

"Harry," said Ron as they kept walking.

"Hmh," said Harry, a part of him still annoyed.

"I _really_ wish Crabbe and Goyle were here this term," he said, looking wistful.

Hermione took a swing at the back of Ron's head and Harry laughed at both of them.


	22. Chapter 22: Six Degrees of Separation

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: SIX DEGREES OF SEPARATION 

Classes resumed after the New Year and Hogwarts seemed to have been blanketed in blinding white. The winter storms had been relentless and so had the professors. With N.E.W.T.s approaching near end of term, they'd never had so much review.

Harry was probably working harder than anyone else, but not because he was worried about marks. He simply knew he'd need every advantage to have a chance of pulling off what absolutely had to be done.

And he'd become relentless in D.A. meetings. Harry pushed his fellow students hard, but they worked tirelessly and eventually rose to his every challenge.

He'd made several trips to McGonagall's office, hoping to speak with Dumbledore's portrait, but he'd been unsuccessful. He either found Dumbledore slumbering or, as on his last two attempts, entirely missing from his portrait.

Harry suspected a second portrait had been hung at Order headquarters, and that Dumbledore was deep in the mix of whatever was going on. He'd seen more and more of Kingsley and Moody in the castle, as well.

The Death Eaters were definitely on the move. Hardly a day went by when the Daily Prophet wasn't reporting on some gruesome murder or other hideous crime, all boldly emblazoned by the Dark Mark.

Time was winding down and Harry knew it. Something major was coming. He could feel it. He, Hermione and Ron had racked their brains trying to figure out what object of Ravenclaw's had been claimed by Voldemort for a Horcrux. He wondered what McGonagall would say if he asked to camp out in her office.

Now, as February was speeding by, Harry got from his warm bed, dressed and went downstairs to the common room. It was five AM and he was headed to the Room of Requirement, as he'd been doing almost each morning since the fall.

He stopped when some distant sound caught his attention. Funny, he'd never have noticed it six months ago; but thanks to Firenze's unorthodox and often times strange exercises, Harry's senses were very much heightened.

He went to one of the windows and peered out at the still darkened grounds. The sound was growing closer. Harry pressed his forehead against the windowpane and waited. He squinted and finally saw something. There was someone out there. Who'd be out there this time of morning? Harry knew there were Order members stationed on the grounds, but they'd always remained concealed.

He looked more closely and realized he did know who it was. He recognized the swish of a ponytail and knew it was Jillian. She was running. For half a second, Harry thought she was being chased, but her stride was too easy. No, she was running like she did this everyday. Harry watched as she disappeared from view, and he waited. Five minutes went by before she circled back around. She was running some kind of route across the hard, snow packed grounds. So, he wasn't the only insomniac who rose before the sun.

But it was freezing out there. Yet, she seemed perfectly at ease. Harry watched her make one more circuit, then grabbed his own things and headed out the portrait hole to start his day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Lucius," said Voldemort so silkily that if felt like a lethal caress, "I have shown you much hospitality since arranging for your freedom, have I not?"

"Yes, Master," said Lucius. "I am most grateful."

And it was true. Lucius and the other escapees had been brought before Voldemort, most in fear of their lives. But to their great surprise, they'd been welcomed back into the fold, none more so than Lucius. Or so it appeared. They'd been fed, clothed and well cared for until they once more looked and felt like the men they'd been nearly two years ago.

As Lucius stood before him, Voldemort's mouth stretched into a sinister grin and his eyes flashed maliciously. Lucius no longer felt like a lucky man. In fact, he was beginning to feel like the fatted calf.

"You certainly should be," replied the Dark Lord. "I expect you to return my kindness."

"Certainly, My Lord. I am here to serve you."

"Yes, you are," spat Voldemort. "And if you fail me this time, Lucius, you will not live to regret it. But they will."

And with those words, two figures were ushered into the room. For one very long moment, Lucius did not believe what his eyes were telling him. His wife and son, or what seemed to be shadows of them, were standing feet from him.

Lucius's already pale face whitened even more. He'd been told that Narcissa and Draco were being protected in another location. He'd been told that they were safe. And now he knew they'd been near enough to touch all this time. But they had not been well cared for. On the contrary, Lucius thought they looked like the walking dead.

He looked around at the assembled Death Eaters. Nearly all of them had known all along. Bellatrix. Snape. Pettigrew. Dolohov.

Lucius reached out a hand towards Narcissa, but she flinched and began screaming as if being tortured. She turned and clung to their son. Draco soothed his mother's hysterics and looked directly at his father, or rather, through him.

Draco's eyes showed no reaction and Lucius was convinced that his son did not recognize him, that something was very much broken within his child.

"Reunions can be so very touching," said Voldemort venomously.

Lucius's entire world was shattering before his very eyes and Voldemort knew it.

"They've been far more trouble than they are worth," said Voldemort. "But, I can see that you are still fond of them. So, I'll do you one last favor and leave them in your charge."

"Thank you, Master," Lucius somehow managed to say.

"You may want to clean them up a bit," he said disdainfully. "But mark my words, Lucius. One slip up, one misstep and I will finish all three of you. There is no where else you can go, nowhere from which you can escape me."

"Our place is by your side, Master," said Lucius.

"Wormtail," called Voldemort.

"Yes, My Lord," cried the rat faced Death Eater.

"Show the Malfoys to their new quarters, please," ordered Voldemort. "And give Lucius his wand. I dare say he will have need of it for his next assignment."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On Saturday evening, Harry, Ron and Hermione were in his and Ron's room, studying. Harry was going over a Potions assignment and flipping through the Half Blood Prince's book. As usually happened, he was drawn to the spells, curses and jinxes that filled the margins. He knew most of them by heart, and had managed to figure out what many of them likely did without using anyone as guinea pig.

But there was a page near the back that listed about a dozen spells, the likes of which Harry had never seen. Nothing about them was familiar and he couldn't even begin to guess what they were.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.

Harry hadn't realized he'd been frowning.

"Oh, nothing, sorry," he said. "I just had an idea bout something. You two keep studying. I'll be back."

"Do you need help?" asked Ron.

"Nope," said Harry. "It's nothing major. See you later."

It was after curfew, but not very late and Harry did not want to wait until next week's classes. He didn't know why he hadn't thought about it before. If anyone could help him figure out Snape's mystery curses, and their counter-curses, if any existed, it would be Jillian. He'd show her the book and Snape's notes, and then maybe they could start working on some of them in their lessons.

Harry arrived at the door to her private quarters and knocked. He waited and was about to knock a second time when Jillian opened the door. She was dressed comfortably in jeans, a cable sweater, and white trainers. She could have easily been mistaken for a university student.

"Harry, said Jillian, surprised to see him.

"Hi, Jillian," he said. "Sorry to bother you, but could I come in for a minute? I want to run something by you."

"Of course," she said. "Come in."

Harry had never been inside her quarters before. He doubted any other space in Hogwarts looked like this one. If he didn't know he was in an ancient castle, he would have sworn he was standing in the middle of an urban flat.

Everything was tastefully and beautifully appointed, and ultra modern.

"Wow," he said and Jillian laughed.

"You can't take the Muggle out of the girl," she joked. "I needed some creature comforts. I admit, I do miss some of my electronics; but at least it looks a lot like my home. Would you like the tour?"

"Sure," said Harry and followed Jillian through what turned out to be three connecting rooms.

"So, what can I do for you, Harry?" she asked.

Harry pulled out the Potions book and explained what he wanted. She scowled when he revealed the book originally belonged to Severus Snape, but she did not interrupt him.

"No problem," she said confidently. "In fact, I was going to start teaching you to invent spells of your own, so this is perfect timing. If you want, we can start tonight."

"Really?" he asked. "I mean it's Saturday. I don't want to intrude."

"Intrude on what?" she inquired. "My endless book reading. Tonks left about a half hour before you knocked and I'm not expecting anyone else. Go ahead, have a seat. This should be fun. I'll grab some snacks."

Two hours later, they had made massive progress. Harry was beyond amazed at how smart she really was. He knew she was talented, but her mind was extraordinary. And you'd never know it unless she let you close enough to discover it.

"It's getting late. We should start wrapping up for tonight. Why don't you write down some of the ideas you talked about and we can start with those on Tuesday. There's extra ink and parchment in the top drawer over there," she said, indicating a desk tucked into a corner.

Harry headed to the desk and she followed, carrying a tray of their dirty dishes.

"I'll just go put these away," she said, clearly as comfortable as a Muggle as she was as a witch.

She'd just reached the doorway that led to a second room, when she turned and saw Harry open the left hand drawer.

"Not that one, Harry," she said, "It's the right side drawer."

But it was too late. He'd already looked down and the only good thing he could say was that he was already sitting down. For if he'd been standing, Harry had no doubt his legs would have gone out from under him. He didn't even realize Jillian was now standing at the desk, the tray set atop it.

He was staring at a handsomely framed photo of Sirius. It was a much younger Sirius, strikingly good looking and full of life, smiling out of the frame in a way Harry had rarely seen him. Harry's hands shook as he lifted the frame from the drawer. Jillian's own hand grasped the top of it, and Harry looked up at her.

He didn't know which of them looked more rattled.

"You knew Sirius?" he barely got out in a whisper.

"Yes," she said.

"How?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"How, Jillian?" he asked again, barely recognizing his own voice.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

Harry actually laughed. It was a sick sounding laugh, full of disbelief, distrust and disappointment.

"If you knew anything about me, you'd know that couldn't be any further from the truth," he said, getting up angrily from the desk and retrieving his things. "We're done. You can fail me in Defense if you want, I really don't care."

"You can't stop your lessons, Harry," she said emphatically. "They're too important."

"Watch me," said Harry, pointing at the picture frame in her hand. "He was important. My friends are important. The rest doesn't really matter a whole hell of a lot."

Harry was inches from the door when a crash sounded behind him. He turned and saw that Jillian had swiped the tray and dishes from the desk and sent them hurdling across the room before they all fell to the floor in tiny splintered pieces.

She was gripping the edge of the desk with both hands and breathing hard. When she looked up at Harry, her eyes were filled with too many emotions for him to read and a trail of tears was slowly dripping down her cheeks, but she made no move to wipe them away.

"_Look,"_ said her voice in Harry's head. "_It's all there. Go ahead and look."_

She was standing there with her emotions raw and her thoughts completely open to him. Harry entered her mind and she offered no resistance. Within seconds, he found he very much needed to lean against the door to stay upright as he journeyed through her memories.

Harry saw a young Jillian, no more than his age, walking alone in Diagon Alley on a summer's day. He saw her noticing a young man across the street, who was pretending he hadn't noticed her. It was Sirius.

He watched them later, on what was undoubtedly the same day, bumping into each other in the doorway of Flourish and Blotts.

He witnessed Sirius asking if she had time to join him for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron.

He saw small glimpses of lots and lots of dates from that summer and winter holidays.

He saw her reading letters from Sirius, which expressed how much he missed her and couldn't wait until she returned to England.

She did return, and it was clearly the spring or summer just before their lives were forever altered.

He saw her meeting his parents for the first time, with an infant Harry on his mother's hip. She gifted them a huge bouquet of sterling and white roses. Sirius had taken her to Godric's Hollow. Harry wasn't even a year old yet. He saw his parents beaming as they witnessed Sirius's unbridled happiness.

He heard his mother ask Jillian to hold him while she went into the kitchen, and he saw his infant self looking up at her with a drooling grin. The Jillian in the memory laughed and Sirius joined her, undeniable love in his eyes for the woman and the child before him.

The memories rolled on and Harry still had his back plastered against the door.

He watched Sirius confiding to her about the dangers surrounding them and telling her as much as he hated to see her leave again, at least he knew she'd be safe. Jillian delighted him when she said her return trip at Christmas would likely be for good, that she would be moving to England.

The images were finally slowing, and Harry saw snippets of a memory that was so intimate, he felt like a voyeur. But Jillian held very little back. That night had ended with them planning for a future they hoped to have and Sirius proposing to her, with a beautiful diamond and ruby ring to symbolize his promise to her.

Harry didn't think he could stand any more and he finally broke the connection, his own heart racing as if he'd just run a marathon.

He looked at Jillian and could see everything she'd been holding back breaking to the surface. Her face was wet with a cascade of tears; yet, she'd stood there, emotionally naked and defenseless, letting him roam through memories that were ripping her in half.

She finally crumpled to the floor, sitting like a rag doll in the space between the desk and the wall, giving voice to her pain as sobs shook her body. Every one of her anguished cries cut at Harry's own heart, as if they were somehow connected. And in essence, they were; he'd just never known it.

He pushed himself from the door and walked slowly across the room, standing next to where she sat on the floor.

"Jillian," he said.

She did not look up. He wasn't even sure if she knew he was still in the room. Harry lowered himself beside her, resting his back against wall, and waited. Minutes went by; but she finally sat back next to him, curling into the space between his chest and right arm.

She was still crying and shaking. Harry knew he could do nothing but sit there until her tears were spent. Her cries were competing with Harry's own emotions, his own never buried grief, and his own questions.

All the little things that had seemed odd, but fairly unimportant, now made complete sense. He thought about the times when she seemed so far away or momentarily sad or distracted. They had been times when Sirius's name had popped up in conversation, no matter how brief. Now, he understood why Kingsley had been worried about her, and why he'd urged her to confide in Harry.

He was sitting here with the woman who'd been the love of his godfather's life. She'd befriended Harry, tutored him and protected him; and all along, she'd been living in her own private hell.

So many things were running through his mind. They'd been sitting like that for a long time when Harry focused enough to realize it was quiet and to detect the change in her breathing. She'd literally cried herself to sleep. He did not want to wake her.

He knew Ron and Hermione were probably in the common room, worried about where'd he'd gone and why he wasn't back. They wouldn't be able to check the Marauder's Map as it was in his bag. He'd been using it more and more on his late night and early morning prowls through the castle. Harry shifted ever so slightly so that he could see his watch. It was a little past two in the morning. He waited a bit longer and then had an idea.

"Dobby," called Harry very quietly and relaxed when the house-elf appeared almost instantaneously. Harry put a finger to his lips to indicate that Dobby should be quiet.

The house elf looked at Harry sitting there with Jillian, his gigantic eyes expressing concern.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir," whispered the house-elf.

"I need you to go to Gryffindor Tower, Dobby," said Harry, whispering too. "Let Ron and Hermione know that I'm all right and I will see them in the morning."

"Right away, Harry Potter, sir," said the elf, and he disappeared before Harry could tell him not to mention that he was with Jillian.

"Great," said Harry under his breath.

"You know that's how rumors get started," came a soft voice from the form at his side.

Jillian was awake.

"Just one more to add to my collection," he said quietly. "Don't worry. Dobby won't tell anyone but Hermione and Ron. Sorry, I was trying really hard not to wake you."

She stirred and sat up, uncurling her legs and wiping at her eyes and cheeks.

"You didn't," she said. "The floor did. I'm not as young as you, you know."

Harry gave up on their attempt at light bantering and looked closely at her.

"I know," she said. "I must look an absolute mess."

"Not at all," said Harry truthfully.

Her eyes were a bit puffy and her hair was nearly as messy as his; but she was still beautiful. She and Sirius would have been one of those couples that turned heads.

"Thank you for staying," she said, trying to reign in her growing embarrassment. "I did not mean to fall to pieces on you."

Harry did not respond.

"But it is way too late for you to be out of your dormitory. You should go to bed."

Harry wasn't the least bit sleepy. He didn't believe he could sleep even if Madam Pomfrey drugged him.

"I'd rather stay here and talk to you," he said. "If you feel up to it, of course."

She stiffened ever so slightly and Harry thought the wall was going back up, but it didn't.

"Okay," she said, "but I could really use some strong tea."

Harry got to his feet and helped her up.

"I'll get it," he said and headed for the second room, giving Jillian time to collect her thoughts.

When he returned with the tea server, she was propped against one end of the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her. Harry placed the server on the table, passed her a cup and sat at the opposite end, trying hard not to crowd her.

"Where shall I start?" she asked.

"How about the beginning?" he offered.

Jillian had been seventeen when she met a twenty year-old Sirius that day in Diagon Alley; and their mutual attraction had been immediate.

She'd only been in England about a week, having arrived after finishing her final year in school to spend the summer with Kingsley. Only Kingsley was in his last year of Auror training and didn't have a lot of free time during the weekdays to spend with her. She'd spend her mornings with Aunt Caitlin, and then occupy her afternoons with shopping and sightseeing until she could meet up with Kingsley.

By the time summer wore on, her visits with Aunt Caitlin grew shorter and shorter, and her days with Sirius, longer and longer. At Christmas time, she'd convinced her parents that they should visit Kingsley instead, thereby sparing him the necessity of cutting his holiday visit short due to his Ministry training schedule. They'd agreed, and even stayed an extra week longer than originally planned. All of it had been designed so that she could see more of Sirius.

When she returned that next Easter, she finally confided in her brother that she'd met someone very special. He'd made her promise to bring him around so that Kingsley could meet him. She'd laughed and told him he already knew him. Kingsley had only been a year ahead of the Marauders at Hogwarts. But Jillian had decided to keep him guessing until they could all meet together.

It never happened. When Jillian returned that summer, Kingsley was sent away on an Auror assignment. She'd stayed at Kingsley's flat and spent as much time as possible with Sirius. It was that summer that Sirius took her to meet his best friend and his wife. She'd spent a number of evenings in the company of his parents and had liked them very much.

"Lily used to joke that she was happy to have another female to talk to because it was hard work raising three boys," said Jillian, his mother having been referring to baby Harry, James and Sirius.

Harry laughed.

"Sirius and James were closer than brothers and great fun to be around. They were brilliant and brave and incredibly loyal to each other."

They talked a while longer, and then Harry asked the first burning question.

"When did Kingsley find out?"

"Just before I left that summer," she said. "He came home from assignment just in time to see me off and I told him."

"What did he say?" asked Harry.

"I think he was stunned," she answered. "Eventually he laughed, shook his head and asked if I knew Sirius was part of a matched set."

Harry couldn't help but feel warmed by her stories.

"I was back home and had asked my father to make arrangements for me to enter the Auror program here in Britain," she continued. "I was due to start that January, but it never happened."

Her eyes welled once more, but she fought for control.

"Kingsley came home rather unexpectedly. I'll never forget it. It was the first day of November and he knocked and walked into my bedroom very early that morning. I took one look at his face and knew something unimaginable had happened."

Harry knew what was coming.

"He stood there and told me that James and Lily had been murdered by Voldemort; that you'd somehow survived the Killing Curse and broken Voldemort's power; and that Sirius had betrayed your parents and led Voldemort directly to them and you," she said, the anger in her voice from just the memory still evident.

"You never believed it," he said.

"No," she replied. "I knew Sirius could never have done the things he'd been accused of. But Kingsley said the evidence was overwhelming."

"Then what?" asked Harry.

"Well, I'm ashamed to admit it now and I eventually apologized, but I called Kingsley a Ministry puppet and told him he was an idiot to believe a bunch of propaganda over the word of his sister."

"Ouch," said Harry, but he admired her loyalty to Sirius.

"I thought he'd put me over his knee, he looked so angry," she said. "But he didn't. Instead he said I'd obviously been hoodwinked by Sirius and that he'd be there for me when I was ready to see reason."

Harry could only imagine the tension that caused.

"I didn't speak to him for months," she said.

"What finally changed?" asked Harry, knowing something had because he'd witnessed their sibling bond and it looked unshakable.

"Sirius did," she said quietly. "I was furious that no one seemed to be doing anything to get to the bottom of what happened, so I tried to intervene. I told my parents I was going to surprise Kingsley at Christmas, but I didn't go to him for a few days."

She took a long sip from her teacup and Harry saw her hands trembling.

"I went straight to Dumbledore and told him everything I knew and everything I believed."

"And?" asked Harry.

"He looked genuinely concerned by my distress, but was of the same opinion as Kingsley," she explained. "He was saddened by Sirius's betrayal, but had no reason to think it had not happened as everyone else believed."

"So you had no one to help you?" inquired Harry.

"Absolutely no one," she said. "Sirius had talked about Remus, but I'd never met him and had no idea where to find him. But I couldn't just leave him to rot in Azkaban for something he didn't do. Ironically, the only other people in the world who would have moved heaven and hell to clear him were the two people he'd supposedly betrayed."

"My mum and dad," said Harry.

"James would have torn Azkaban apart stone by stone to get to Sirius," she said, "and I was determined to do the same."

"What did you do?"

"I went to the prison," she said, "posing as a visiting Auror and said I needed to question Sirius Black in connection with several murders that had taken place in the U.S. during his last known visit. It was easy enough for me to do. I'd been around my father and his staff all my life."

"Clever," said Harry.

"It was and it worked," she said. "They showed me to an empty room and I waited for nearly an hour until they brought him out, shackled."

Jillian closed her eyes for several moments.

"He looked so very different," she said. "He'd not been locked up two whole months, but his eyes were already haunted. That look wasn't from Azkaban. It was from someplace else. It was the look little kids get when they find out what they most believed in the world was never true."

"Did he say anything?" asked Harry.

"Not really," she said. "I tried so hard to get him to tell me what really happened; but he just sat there, as if retelling it would actually make it true. But he knew it was true; he just didn't want to face it. The reality of it was crushing him."

Harry felt his own chest constricting.

"We could hear the guards rattling along the hall," she went on. "For one long moment, he looked at me – I mean really looked at me – in the way he always had before. But he gave me the saddest smile."

Harry waited for her to finish.

"He told me he loved me; but that I was to go on with my life and never come there again," she said, her voice cracking. "He stood up and two guards entered and escorted him away."

Harry reached for her cup and refilled it, placing it within reach on the table.

"I returned to the city, went to see Kingsley and broke down in his arms. I knew he'd mistaken Sirius's silence as a sign of guilt, but I didn't care anymore. I only wanted someone to make the pain go away. But it didn't, and I left for home two days later. I told my father I'd changed my mind and wanted to stay home and he was ecstatic to be overseeing my Auror training. My work has been my whole life. I had not set foot back in Britain for more than a day or two at a time until this summer."

"But Sirius escaped twelve years later," said Harry, "And then a year later, Kingsley joined the Order and learned the truth."

"Yeah, and what fun conversations those were," she said. "But _'I told you so,'_ wasn't going to help Sirius. He was living on the run. I did mange to track him down, though."

"You did?" asked Harry, completely surprised.

"Yes," she said. "Dumbledore knew where he was, but that secret would have gone with him to the grave. Fortunately, one of the last real conversations Sirius and I shared before that horrible night was about places we'd love to honeymoon in. There were three, and I found him on the second island on our wish list. It was a secluded little spot in the Greek Isles."

Harry recalled the colorful and exotic looking bird that had delivered Harry's birthday gift the summer before Voldemort's return.

"Azkaban had changed him, snapped a part of him," she said. "But I didn't care. I was ready to chuck everything away and live on the run with him. Despite everything that happened, everything he'd been through, nothing had changed between us."

She had no idea how happy Harry was to hear that.

"I'm glad you were with him," he said.

"Slowly, the hollowed and haunted look began leaving his face. I cut his hair and fixed all his favorite foods. He was fine during the day, but he used to have the worst nightmares. They did finally begin to lessen, bit by bit."

"I'm sure Azkaban would give anyone nightmares," commented Harry.

"Yes, it definitely took its toll on him, but his most reoccurring nightmare was about that night – about getting to the destroyed house and finding James's body and then Lily's," she said quietly and sadly, watching Harry carefully.

Harry swallowed back the hot ache in his throat. He'd asked her to share all this with him and he wanted to hear it, even the painful parts.

"It's okay," he somehow managed to say. "Go on."

"He blamed himself for part of that, for believing that Peter was a safer bet as Secret Keeper; but most of all, he blamed himself for not getting there sooner, for not dying in their place," she continued. "He would have, you know? He would have stood between Voldemort and James without a moment's hesitation."

"I know," Harry said. "He told us everything that night he revealed himself in the Shrieking Shack. He looked every bit the murdering lunatic everyone said he was; but when he talked about Mum and Dad, the truth burned through his eyes. I could see how much he loved them and how much he still missed them."

"And you," said Jillian. "When we wanted to be complete beach bums, we'd stretch out in the sand and he would talk about you for hours and hours. He adored you."

Harry smiled.

"Then, when we'd begun checking in at home, things seemed off. Strange things were happening and you'd been having your own haunted dreams."

"I wish I'd never written him," said Harry.

"Don't be silly," she said. "There was no way he was going to stay away from you, no matter what you did or didn't put in a letter."

He'd lost Sirius almost two years ago, and he was still struggling with the guilt he carried.

Harry could have sworn Jillian was in his head as she watched his face.

"Harry, listen to me carefully," she said. "The only ones responsible for Sirius's death are Voldemort, Bellatrix and that hideous Kreacher. One of the hardest things I've had to do is sit here since September and not go down to the kitchens and rip that sick little elf limb from bloody limb."

"But if I hadn't been…" he started.

"Then Voldemort would have found another way to get to you, just like he tried on Christmas Eve, and Sirius would have rushed to your side, again. That was his charge, Harry. He was your godfather. Nothing would have stopped him: not Dumbledore, not threat of Azkaban, nor facing an army of Death Eaters."

Harry was silent.

"The only thing I regret is that I let him convince me to return home instead of coming here with him to help," she said. "I most certainly should have come after you came out of that maze; but by then, he and Kingsley were both so worried about everything that was going on that I let them convince me I'd be an added distraction that they couldn't afford. Kingsley did everything he could to create false leads so that the Ministry was never close to finding him. He was the medium by which Sirius and I communicated during that last year. I believe you know everything else."

"We lost him," he said, his grief bubbling up. "And you lost him twice."

"I know, and honestly, I can't tell you which way hurts more."

"So why did you come back, now?" he asked, blinking.

"For you, of course," she said. "And for him. I was an absolute basket case after listening to Kingsley and Dumbledore tell me together that Sirius was gone for good. I was angry at the world. Then a year later, Dumbledore was gone and I knew I couldn't wallow in my own misery any longer."

She reached across the sofa and took his hand.

"I'm here to help you any way that I can," she said. "That bastard detonated our worlds and he won't stop until he is destroyed. If we can make that happen, then maybe everything won't have been in vain."

Harry looked into the warm eyes of the woman who should have been Sirius's wife and an aunt or godmother to him, the woman who should have been part of the Potter and Black family, and felt his resolve strengthen.

Sunlight was breaking through the windows. They'd talked through the entire night.

"Now, you really have to be exhausted," she said. "I know I am. I want you to go upstairs and get some sleep, okay?"

She was right. With his immediate questions answered, Harry felt the full weight of the last twenty-four hours closing in on him.

"There's one more thing," he said. "When I visited my parents' graves last summer, there were vases of roses on either side of the headstone. They looked like the ones you revealed in one of your memories. I take it they were from you, then?"

"Yes," she said. "Your mother adored them and I brought an arrangement on each of the occasions I visited with Sirius. I went to their graves about a week before you did."

"That was very nice of you," he said. "Thank you."

She smiled softly and rose with him from the sofa.

"I have a request, Harry," she said, as she walked him to the door. "I know you share nearly everything was Ron and Hermione, but I'm not ready for anyone else to know."

"You don't have to explain," he said. "I understand."

She smiled and pulled him into a hug before opening the door, planting a maternal kiss on his forehead and mussing his hair.

"I've wanted to do that ever since Kingsley introduced us at the Burrow," she said, with a small laugh as she opened the door. "Now get going."

She waited at the doorway and watched him walk down the corridor and disappear around a corner.


	23. Chapter 23: Behind The Veil

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: BEHIND THE VEIL

Weeks passed and Harry awoke nearly everyday with Sirius on his mind. This morning had been no exception. It was weird. It's not like Harry never thought about him. He missed him everyday, but this felt different. At first, he thought it'd been brought on as a result of everything he'd learned from Jillian. But he couldn't shake this weird feeling.

He stole a few moments between classes and extra lessons and went to his dormitory. As he'd hoped, it was empty. He dumped the contents of his trunk on the floor until he found what he wanted, the two-way mirror Sirius had given him.

It was still broken after Harry had thrown it into the trunk following Sirius's death. He'd never attempted to repair it; but he wanted to try it now.

"_Reparo_," he thought to himself, and the tiny pieces regrouped before him and he was holding an intact mirror.

He looked at it and saw only his own reflection. He didn't want to give into the false hope that the mirror would some how work this time. Harry turned it over and was about to put it away when he noticed something on the back of it.

It was some sort of symbol, a rune of some kind. It looked oddly familiar. Harry was trying to remember where he'd seen it. And then it occurred to him. He went to his bedside table and revealed Dumbledore's Pensieve. Sure enough, the same symbol was etched into the side of the basin, along with several others; but this one was the largest.

Something was still tugging at his brain. He kept going back to Dumbledore's funeral, but he was drawing a blank. Maybe it was time to use his birthday gift.

This time, Harry pulled his wand and placed it against his temple, pulling out a silvery thread of the memory he needed to look at. He dropped the silvery substance into the basin and swirled it around, leaning forward and reviewing his own memory. It was a little creepy.

He saw himself seated next to Ginny, Hermione and Ron. He waited for the little man in black to stop speaking and then he paid very close attention to the memory. He saw what he was looking for. In the white smoke that filled the air from the flames that sprung up around Dumbledore's body, Harry saw several shapes. They were the same shapes that made up the rune on the Pensieve and on the back of the two-way mirror. What could it possibly mean?

Harry put the Pensieve away, sent everything flying back into his trunk and ran downstairs with the mirror in his pocket. He spotted Hermione just before she reached the entrance to the Great Hall and he shouted to her. She looked up and saw him on the staircase, beckoning her towards him. She had to push against the crowd of students to reach him.

"Can you come upstairs, please?" he asked.

"Of course," she said and walked back with him to the common room and upstairs to his dormitory.

He pulled out the Pensieve once more and asked, "Do you know what that symbol is?"

"It's a rune," she said.

"I'd already worked that much out," he replied. "Do you know what it means?"

"It could mean a number of things," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"Because this isn't the only place I've seen it," he explained. He showed her the memory from Dumbledore's funeral and the markings on the back of Sirius's mirror.

"Those still aren't the only places you've seen it," she said.

Harry looked at her.

"It's in the Department of Mysteries –on that archway with the veil," she said hesitantly, not wanting to upset him.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"It was across the top of the archway," she said. "I remember it because you were so transfixed by it, I was trying to figure out what had your attention."

Harry had heard voices behind the veil. At the time, he thought he'd been the only one. Later, he'd learned Luna had heard them, too. Of course, he and Luna could also see Thestrals, so who knew what was going on.

"You said the symbol could mean a number of things," he said.

"Well, yes," she said, sitting cross-legged on his bed. "That rune is made up of three parts."

Harry looked at it and saw a triangle, a circle and a straight line.

"Each of those by themselves means something," she explained, "and depending on the origin of the rune, even those individual elements may vary."

Harry frowned.

"But these are fairly basic across the civilizations from which they may have originated," she said.

"How so?" asked Harry, sitting beside her.

"Well, the triangle obviously symbolizes three," she said. "Three is actually a very fascinating number. We know Voldemort thinks seven is the most magically significant number, but there have been entire cultures built around the perceived power of three."

Listening to her, Harry wished he'd dropped Divinations and taken Ancient Runes, instead.

"And what do Muggles believe a circle represents?" Hermione asked, quizzing him. "Think about a wedding ring."

"Infinity," said Harry. "A circle has no beginning and no end. It's unbreakable."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Much of mathematics stems from the same theories that form the basis for runes."

"And the straight line means one, then?" reasoned Harry.

"You've got it," she said. "But strung together, it could be interpreted any number of ways."

Harry could see that.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said.

"Anytime," she replied. "Are you coming down for lunch?"

"No, you go ahead," he said. "I want to check something out."

"And don't forget you are supposed to talk to Flitwick tomorrow," said Hermione.

"Right," he said.

Harry had finally gotten a few minutes with Dumbledore's portrait, and learned that Rowena Ravenclaw had owned a set of goblin made armor, gifted to her from Godric Gryffindor, himself. Much of it had passed down to her descendants over the years. They were hoping Flitwick could point them towards their locations.

For now though, Harry had one other thing he really wanted to do.

His Patronus sprang from his wand tip and disappeared through the tower window. He put the Pensieve back once more, scribbled a note to Ron, and grabbed his Cloak. Harry went downstairs to find Firenze to tell him that he needed to skip their lesson for the day, and then made his way back upstairs to the third floor corridor to wait in the shadows.

In less than five minutes, the passageway on the One-Eyed Witch parted and out stepped Kingsley.

"Hi, Kingsley," said Harry as he came forward.

"Come here," said Kingsley, retreating back into the tunnel and waiting for Harry to join him.

Harry did, and closed the passageway above them, while Kingsley lit the tunnel. It appeared the Order had added wall lanterns along the path.

"Your message said you wanted to go to the Ministry," said Kingsley.

"Yes," said Harry. "I need to get into the Department of Mysteries."

He didn't ask Harry why, only, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"All right, let's go," he said and led the way back through the tunnel and into the cellar at Honeydukes.

The twins were there to greet him.

"Hi, Fred. Hi, George," said Harry.

"Hey, Harry," they said as Kingsley set his own Patronus loose.

"We'll wait here until Tonks signals back," Kingsley informed them.

"Harry," said Fred, "When you come back, you'll find a box at the bottom of the tunnel. It's packed with something we've been working on."

"We thought it might be useful to you," chimed in George. "There's a note explaining what it is, along with the password to reveal the tunnel door on this end. It'll burn up as soon as you've read it, so don't forget to fill in Ron and the others."

"Got it. Thanks," he said as he saw Tonks's Patronus hovering near Kingsley.

Harry put on his Cloak, stood beside Kingsley and the two disappeared together.

To Harry's dismay, he found they'd Apparated directly into Rufus Scrimgeour's office and the Minister was waiting for them. Harry pulled his Cloak and looked at the Minister.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," said the Minster.

"Hello, Minister," said Harry politely.

"We thought it best to have you Apparate in here. We did not want to draw any extra attention to your presence. I know how much you would hate that," he said, failing to hide the bite in his voice.

"That was considerate of you," said Harry, trying not to choke on the words.

"Might I ask why you need access to one of the most guarded areas within the Ministry?" he said through a forced smile.

"You can ask, but I cannot tell you," said Harry, unblinking.

Whatever the Minister was about to say was interrupted by a blur of pink that sauntered through the previously closed, but apparently unlocked door, saying, "Minister, I need…"

Harry found himself face to face with Delores Umbridge. He felt Kingsley shift beside him. She'd lost her train of thought as she stared at Harry.

"You!" she said and Harry gave a phony laugh.

"Yeah, me," he replied. "I guess I really shouldn't be surprised to see you here, after all. It's not like there's reason for you to be locked away."

Her eyes widened and the Minister looked from her to Harry.

"Oh, wait," said Harry in feigned amazement, "there are one or two, aren't there?"

"What are you talking about, Potter?" demanded Scrimgeour.

"Nothing!" shrilled Umbridge, coloring so fast her complexion clashed horribly with her pink ensemble. "He's still a nasty little liar."

"No, no," said Harry, shaking his head and making a fist with his right hand, until the faded scars from her barbaric detentions stood out clearly on the back of his hand. "I'm not allowed to tell lies, remember?"

Umbridge's eyes narrowed and she looked ready to charge at Harry.

"She didn't tell you what a wonderfully loyal Ministry employee she is?" asked Harry of the Minister. "Well, you should be proud of her. She was so determined to show the world what complete nutters Dumbledore and I were, that she went so far as to arrange a Dementor attack on me and my cousin in Little Whinging; and then – oh yeah, she was in the midst of casting the Cruciatus Curse at me when someone distracted her."

"I did no such things!" she shrieked, and her wand arm moved.

"Go ahead and try it," said Harry quietly.

"Shacklebolt?" said Scrimgeour.

"Eyewitness accounts match Potter's story," said Kingsley. "And even if they didn't, I'd still believe him."

Scrimgeour stared at Delores until she quaked in her shoes.

"Hand me your wand, Delores," he said, and she did so.

"Go wait for me in your office, now," he demanded. "Do not leave the premises."

Umbridge retreated from the room, her whimpering echoing down the hall.

"I will deal with Delores, Potter," said Scrimgeour. "I did not know of any of these things. You or Dumbledore could have told me last year."

"Yeah, well, given our previous experiences with the Ministry, we really didn't see the point," said Harry plainly. "I suppose Fudge is still hanging around somewhere, too."

Scrimgeour grimaced and Harry had his answer. He'd also succeeded in pissing off the Minister, who suddenly roared like the lion he resembled.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, POTTER?" yelled the Minister, and Kingsley made to move in front of Harry, but Harry shook his head.

"I — am — _exactly_ — who—you—think—I — am," he said very slowly and very clearly, each word dropping like a stone.

Harry could feel Kingsley looking at him, but he refused to take his eyes off Scrimgeour. The time for playing games had ended.

Scrimgeour was staring at Harry, watching his eyes, searching for the scar that maligned his forehead, and any other omen he thought might suddenly be present on his person.

"I knew it," he nearly growled. "And you and Dumbledore kept blowing me off and acting as if you had no idea what I was talking about. Do you have any idea how much you could have helped us? You still could, you know?"

That was it. Now it was Harry's turn to blow up.

"WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO, MINISTER? WHAT DO YOU THINK DUMBLEDORE HAD BEEN DOING ALL ALONG?"

Scrimgeour was momentarily too stunned to react, and Harry felt Kingsley's iron clad grip on his shoulder.

"Calm down," he whispered in his ear.

The lights in Scrimgeour's office were flickering.

"I don't know how else to explain this," said Harry, trying to regain his composure. "This isn't about me. It isn't about Dumbledore. And it isn't about you and the Ministry's image."

Harry took a deep breath.

"It's about Voldemort and his quest for ultimate power. He could murder me tomorrow and it still won't stop him from destroying life as you know it. We are all running out of time. I need answers to something very important, and I don't think I can get them anywhere else other than the Department of Mysteries."

Scrimgeour hadn't said another word.

"Now, you can deny me access if you want, but it won't make things any better for you. In fact, I'm pretty sure it'll make things worse, and a whole lot faster."

Scrimgeour ran his hands through his thick mane of hair, his yellow eyes still glowing with anger and who knew what else.

He finally looked up at Kingsley, who simply nodded at him.

"Fine," Scrimgeour said. "But you need to leave your wand in my office, Potter. Only Ministry personnel can be armed in here."

Harry handed it over without hesitation and Scrimgeour locked it, along with Umbridge's wand, in a desk drawer.

"Come with me, now," he said.

Scrimgeour led the way from his office with Harry in the middle, and Kingsley at his back. A few people saw them, but no one said a word or stopped them.

They'd just entered the long hall that led straight to the Department of Mysteries, when someone called out to them.

"Good afternoon, Minister," said a man whom Harry recognized as one of the Order who'd escorted Hermione back from her parents' home at Christmas. He was apparently an Auror, as well.

"Do you need something, Davis?" asked the Minister.

"No, not me," he said. "I just saw Kingsley and Potter with you and thought I'd see if there was anything I could do to help," he said.

"We're fine," said Kingsley. "Aren't you supposed to be headed to Hogsmeade when you finish up here?"

"Oh, yeah, I'll get there. Don't worry."

Kingsley nudged Harry to keep moving and they resumed their pace. They hadn't gone far when Davis yelled, "Hey, I bet I could help save you some time if you just tell me what Potter is looking for. An extra pair of eyes couldn't hurt."

Everything seemed to slow down to a snail's pace as a memory rang in Harry's head like a bell.

"_I need you to understand we have discussed this in depth and no member of the Order will ever again ask you to divulge that information, not ever."_

Harry dropped directly to the floor and belly crawled less than a yard to a very heavy looking table set against one side of the hall. With a wave of his hand, the table flipped over on its side and Harry came up, crouched behind it.

Kinsley had dropped into a squat, his own wand at the ready. He disarmed Davis just as Harry stood up and with an empty hand, sent the man crashing hard against the wall, where he slid slowly down to the floor.

Kingsley was standing over him in two strides. He lifted him bodily and pinned him against the wall by his throat.

"Who are you?" asked Kingsley in a voice Harry had never heard before.

Scrimgeour had watched it all and not moved an inch. He'd been nearest to the man whom Harry and Kingsley just attacked. He looked at Harry, who was stepping over the overturned table, and then at Kingsley, who seemed to be choking the life from a fellow Auror.

"Shacklebolt!" yelled Scrimgeour.

"Who is he?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," said Kingsley.

"You mean he might be…" said Scrimgeour, finally catching on. "We need Veritaserum."

"No, we don't," said Kingsley, tightening his grip around the man's throat and lifting him higher along the wall. He was hanging him without a rope.

"Who are you?" Kingsley practically hissed.

The man's eyes were bulging from his head and he was starting to turn purple. But with what surely looked like his last breath, gurgled out, "I'm a proud servant of the Dark Lord."

Kingsley finally pulled him from the wall and flung him across the width of the hall until he crashed into the opposite side. A bottle rolled from his pocket and Scrimgeour picked it up.

"It's Polyjuice Potion," said Scrimgeour.

"So the real Davis is still alive, then?" asked Harry.

"For now," said Kingsley. "They won't do anything else to him until this one fails to check in."

"Can you get to him?"

"No," said Kingsley and he was so angry, he walked to the overturned table and kicked it, sending it sliding further down the hall.

"I don't know how or when that piece of trash got in," said Kingsley. "But we need to find out."

"What can I do for either of you?" asked Scrimgeour.

He'd definitely seen what Harry had done, but he hadn't commented.

"You can start by not saying anything about what you saw here, Minister," said Kingsley. "I cannot stress how important this is."

"I will not," he said, still looking at Harry as if he were a completely different species. "You have my word. Anything else?"

"Yes, I need to see the Auror schedule going back to January," said Kingsley.

"That's not a problem," he said.

"Harry," said Kingsley, "get your wand."

The Minister did not object.

Harry turned his right palm up and his wand appeared in an instant.

"Good," said Kingsley. "Now put your Cloak on and go do whatever you need to. Meet me back here in fifteen minutes. Understand?"

"Got it," he said, throwing on his Cloak and sprinting down the corridor. He could hear other people coming to investigate the source of the commotion.

Harry walked slowly past the stationed guards. They never even sensed him. He found himself standing in the circular room of doors. Two years ago, it had been a guessing game, but not this time.

He stood in the center of the room, with his eyes closed, concentrating. And in his head, the second door from his immediate left stood out in relief. He opened his eyes and walked right up to it, pushed against it and walked into the room that still showed up in his nightmares.

He only had fifteen minutes and couldn't afford to get weighted down in his own thoughts and emotions. Harry pushed everything to the back of his mind and moved purposely forward, stepping down the inclined stone benches one at a time until he was on the dais and looking up at the veiled archway.

Just like that night nearly two years ago, the veil seemed to be blowing. Yet there was nothing else stirring in the room, not even the hair on the back of Harry's neck. He closed his eyes and again, he heard muffled voices.

Okay, so he hadn't been hallucinating. Harry sat down in front of the archway. A part of him very much wanted to stick his hand through it to determine what was behind it. But a bigger part of him knew that would be most unwise.

Harry pulled the two-way mirror from his pocket and used his sleeve to wipe the glass. Peering at it again, he saw only his face.

He took a deep breath and said out loud, "Sirius."

He waited, holding his breath; but this time, the mirror filled with misty smoke and as it cleared, Harry found himself looking into the smiling face of his godfather. He thought his heart would actually burst.

"Sirius!" he said again, not wanting to believe what he was seeing.

"Hello, Harry," said Sirius. "It's about time you showed up. I thought I was going to have to drop a rock on your head or something to get your attention."

Harry smiled, still unconvinced he wasn't dreaming.

"You've been trying to reach me?" asked Harry. "But I tried the mirror once before and it didn't work."

"The mirror will only work in here," said Sirius. "And probably only because I physically passed through that veil. But yes, I've been trying to nudge you to come here. I thought I was pretty close to succeeding on Christmas when you were trying out the motorcycle."

"That was real? I thought I'd imagined your voice in my head," said Harry.

"No, it was me," replied Sirius.

"I didn't know," said Harry.

"I know you didn't," said Sirius, his eyes roaming over every inch of Harry's face. "At first, I couldn't get through your grief. And when that finally lessened, something else seemed to block me just when I thought you might sense me."

Harry's smile crumpled and he said softly, "My guilt."

"What in the world are you feeling guilty about?" asked Sirius. "You didn't kill anybody, did you?"

Harry did not answer and Sirius closed his eyes as he realized what Harry meant.

"Please tell me you have not been blaming yourself for what happened to me," said Sirius.

Harry nodded.

"Oh, Harry," said Sirius. "How could you possibly think anything so ridiculous?"

"You and the Order were only here because…"started Harry.

"Cut the crap," said Sirius, startling Harry. "Did you curse me?"

"Of course not," said Harry.

"Did you push me through the veil?"

"NO."

"Well then, I really don't see the point of this conversation. You and I could have been sitting in Diagon Alley eating ice cream and Bellatrix or anyone else could have jumped out and attacked us. We might have escaped. We might not have. You should know better than anyone by now that life is unpredictable."

Harry stared at Sirius, but then he finally let out a breath and laughed.

"You are unbelievable," said Harry. "Do you know that?"

"A few people might have mentioned it now and again," he said.

"Speaking of…" said Harry, "were you ever going to get around to telling me about Jillian?"

Sirius's eyes lit from within at the mention of her name.

"She's magnificent, isn't she?" he said.

"She's pretty cool," agreed Harry. "Have you reached out to her, as well?"

Sirius shook his head.

"You discovering the truth about us and talking with her is probably what finally allowed me to reach you. I can sense Jillian when she's thinking about me; but no, I haven't reached out to her."

"Why not?" asked Harry.

Sirius looked pained for a moment.

"Because it would only hurt her more in the long run," he said. "Jillian lived a marginal existence for over a decade. All she did was work. She never opened herself up to anyone else. She had her immediate family and her career, but that was it."

"Are you saying she never dated anyone else?" inquired Harry, finding that impossible to believe.

"No, she did," replied Sirius. "But she never let anyone else into her heart. That's no way to live. She needs to move on. She's still young and beautiful and she deserves to have some real happiness."

"You two should have had your second chance," said Harry.

"It's one of my biggest regrets," said Sirius. "Mind you, I don't have very many, but they are enormous."

"Still, she might like the chance to talk to you, at least once more," said Harry.

"No," said Sirius. "You cannot bring her here. She's like a dog with a bone, stubborn as hell."

"Sounds like someone else I know," said Harry jokingly and was rewarded by Sirius's bark-like laughter.

"Really, Harry," continued Sirius, "I will not linger here forever."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, not really wanting to hear this.

"I haven't completely moved on," said Sirius. "But when I do, the mirror will no longer work for us, even in here."

"Where exactly are you?" asked Harry.

"I'm in a bit of what you might call limbo," said Sirius. "This archway is a physical representation of what truly separates the dimensions. Outside of here, the barrier is normally impenetrable. However, there are times when the fabric is thinner, like when there is massive loss of life. All those souls passing through are like pebbles being thrown in a lake. The reverse is also true, like when loved ones gather to remember the ones they lost."

Harry looked away, not liking where he knew this was leading.

"Harry," he heard Sirius say. "Look at me."

"I chose to stay here," continued Sirius. "It's not a bad spot, really. It beats the hell out of Azkaban. But it is not permanent."

"So why didn't you go on, then?" asked Harry.

"Because I needed to keep an eye on my godson," said Sirius. "I take my duties very seriously. I'm not going anywhere until this is finished, one way or the other."

"Are Mum and Dad with you? What about Dumbledore?"

"No. They are already on the other side," explained Sirius. "They cannot come back through; but I can touch the edges of each world, and have talked with them just like I'm talking with you now."

"Really?" asked Harry.

"Yes," said Sirius, smiling again. "They've been watching you, too. I can't even begin to tell you everything they feel for you. They are insanely proud of you. We all are."

Harry smiled lightly and swallowed back the lump in his throat.

"Now then, since you are here, that must mean you made the connection to the rune," said Sirius.

"Yeah, otherwise I'd still be at Hogwarts thinking I was going mad," answered Harry. "Hermione is the one who remembered it was also carved on the archway. As soon as she said it, I knew I needed to come here."

"Good work," said Sirius.

Harry told him everything he and Hermione had discussed regarding the symbol and Sirius's eyes sparkled.

"Do you know what it means?" asked Harry.

"I have a theory," said Sirius.

"Can you fill me in," said Harry, looking at his watch. "I've got to get back to Kingsley soon."

"I believe the symbol is about you," he said simply.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," said Sirius simply. "Long before the prophecy and Voldemort ever existed, that symbol was carved atop that archway. That archway is probably as old as time itself. I feel your history, our history, was in the making eons ago."

Harry thought Sirius was sounding a lot like Firenze, but he did not interrupt.

"Your life has been shaped by events of three," reasoned Sirius, focusing on the triangle. "Three events have forever changed your life. Name them for me."

"My parents' murders, Dumbledore's murder, and yours," said Harry quietly.

"Yes, and there is another set of three. Think about the prophecy."

"It said the one with the power to destroy him would be born to parents who had thrice defied him."

"Very good," said Sirius. "Yet, there is one more set and you are part of it."

Harry paused, but finally said, "Me, Hermione and Ron."

"Yes," replied his godfather. "I've not seen friends like you since James and me. You have other friends and people who love you, but you three are a unit unto yourselves and it is powerful."

"So, three sets of three," said Harry.

Sirius nodded.

"And the circle links all of it, all of us, together. It is endless and unbreakable, and not even death can bend it," said Sirius. "But at the center of it all, stands you. You are the one."

Harry let out a slow and anxious breath.

"But you are not alone. Even if you are standing on the edge of a precipice thousands of miles away, we are all always with you. Everything that has happened is a part of you. It is the very core of what makes you so remarkably you. You are the link to the past, the present and whatever future awaits us."

Harry was silent, letting Sirius's words wash over him.

"I've got to go," he said and looked directly into Sirius's eyes. "But I don't want to say goodbye to you."

"It's never goodbye."

"I don't think I ever got the chance to actually say this to you," said Harry. "I love you, Sirius."

"I know," said Sirius. "And I, you, so very much."

"Tell Mum and Dad and Dumbledore…"

"They know. I will. Go," he said and vanished from the mirror in a swirl of smoke.

Harry found Kingsley pacing in the same spot along the corridor where he'd nearly strangled the Death Eater to death.

"I'm here, Kingsley," said Harry from beneath his Cloak.

"Good," he replied. "Are you all set?"

"Yes."

"Keep your Cloak on and follow me back to Scrimgeour's office."

The Minister was standing by the fireplace when Kingsley entered with a still cloaked Harry. He waved his wand and the door locked behind them.

"We've got one stop to make," said Kingsley, "so just hold on to me and do not remove your Cloak when we arrive."

"Good luck, Mr. Potter," said Scrimgeour as he watched Kingsley and an invisible Harry vanish before his eyes.

Harry was mildly surprised to see that he was standing behind the bar at the Hogs Head. He was even more surprised by the number of Order who were there: Aberforth, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Jillian, Bill and DeSousa were all assembled, apparently waiting for Kingsley to arrive.

"I was in the middle of something important, Aberforth," said Kingsley. "Would a few more minutes have mattered?"

"Yeah, they would have," said Aberforth. "Come on out."

A cloaked and hooded figure emerged from a side passageway that must have led to the upstairs room and stood in the center of the room. The man removed his hood and chaos erupted.

Almost everyone of the Order had wands pointed directly at the man's chest. He had not moved a muscle.

"Stand down!" yelled Aberforth.

"Not likely," said Lupin. "This is the man who was seen near the Burrow. He was also seen at the fair grounds where Harry and the others were."

The man raised his face and Harry saw eyes so gold they looked unreal.

"He's a Death Eater," said Bill.

"He's not who you think he is," said Aberforth.

"What are you talking about, old man?" asked DeSousa.

Aberforth went to stand in front of the man and said, "Show them."

The man raised his hands very slowly to prove that he was unarmed. Seconds later, a second round of chaos erupted. A completely different man stood before them.

"No!" said Tonks.

"Hello, cousin," replied the man. "Turns out you weren't the only Metamorphmagus in the family."

"It can't be," said Lupin, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

"Hello, Remus," he said. "It's been a very long time."

"Regulus Black," said Lupin, still in disbelief.

The man turned and Harry saw the Black family genes in his face and eyes. He looked a lot like Sirius. He had dark hair and the same fathomless gray eyes.

Without thinking, Harry went to stand beside Jillian and threw off his Cloak. She looked like she'd been spooked and Harry could see her left hand shaking at her side. Fortunately, the others were too distracted by Harry's appearance to really notice. Moody and Tonks were the only two who weren't surprised.

Lupin, still reeling from the shock of Regulus, could only look from Harry to Kingsley.

"I knew, Lupin," said Moody. "I'll explain it later."

Lupin nodded and turned his attention back to Regulus Black. Kingsley, however, was watching Jillian and Harry, one eyebrow arched in question.

"_I know," _ Harry said in his mind, hoping he'd gotten into Kingsley's.

Kingsley gave him one discreet nod and returned his attention to the surprise of the day.

"You are supposed to be dead," said Tonks.

"Nice to see you too, Nymph," said Regulus.

Tonks looked stunned. No one but her family had called her that, and not since she was a little girl.

"How is this possible?" asked Lupin.

"Albus and I arranged for his death," said Aberforth. "He's been living as someone else ever since."

"Who else knew?" asked Lupin.

"No one," said Aberforth. "And it would have stayed that way had he not insisted on coming back."

"How long have you been back?" demanded Moody.

"I came back after I learned Sirius died," he said.

"Why?" asked Tonks, voicing the question everyone wanted answered.

"Because I thought I could help," he said. "I only wish I had tried sooner."

"You've infiltrated the Death Eaters," said Lupin, more a statement than a question.

"Yes," replied Regulus.

"So that day you were spotted in Ottery St. Catchpole…" began Lupin.

"I let myself get spotted," answered Regulus. "I'd read the old Prophet stories about the boy killed the night the Dark Lord returned and I recognized his father from the pictures. I hoped it was enough to warn you."

"It was," said Moody. "Or rather it worried us enough to move Potter."

"Good," said Regulus. "The Dark Lord was desperate to find out where you had him hidden."

"I saw you in Surrey," said Jillian, her voice level, even though Harry could feel the tension coming off her in waves.

"I'm glad," he said. "I didn't know who was who, but I figured the Order would be somewhere close by."

"Why haven't you come forward before now?" asked Kingsley.

"Because I am rarely alone, anymore," he said simply. "Slipping away has become increasingly more difficult."

"How have you been able to fool Voldemort?" asked Harry from beside Jillian.

Regulus turned to look directly at Harry, his eyes invariably zeroing in on Harry's scar, and Harry knocked at his mind.

"_Thank you for your help with the locket_," projected Harry, knowing he was taking a huge risk. But his gut was telling him to chance it.

Regulus's eyes widened slightly, but he did not flinch.

"I guess you are as brave as they say you are. Most grown men won't even speak his name," commented Regulus aloud; but privately, he sent another response to Harry.

"_You do know! I am relieved. I went back to the cave months ago and found the fake one gone. I'd hoped it ended up in the right hands. You must know though, I did not finish what I started. You should…"_

"Would you mind answering my question?" asked Harry, and then interrupted Regulus's other comment.

"_It's been taken care of."_

A small grin formed at Regulus's mouth.

"_Dumbledore has taught you well,"_ he projected with a nod to Harry before answering the original question.

"To the Dark Lord and the others, I am Adrian Baldwin, recent recruit and eager to prove my worth," he said. "Regulus Black ceased to exist years ago, so no one is looking for him. With the right mix of truths and lies, they see what they want to see. It is one of the finer points of Occlumency and Legilimency. I have had to master them in order to stay alive all these years."

"I take it you didn't come here for a reunion," said DeSousa.

"No. I don't know exactly what he is planning, but you need to be on guard. Something huge is going to happen, soon," he said.

He'd just confirmed that Harry's increased anxieties weren't a result of his overactive imagination.

"Can you find out?" asked Moody.

"Probably not in time to warn you," said Regulus. "When I failed to determine Potter's whereabouts, the Dark Lord was rather disappointed."

"You were demoted in rank, then?" inquired DeSousa.

"Yes."

"How do we know you aren't setting us up?" asked Kingsley. "Sorry, but we've had a recent run of bad luck with that sort of thing."

"Because I say so," said Aberforth. "And so would Albus if he were here."

"He said the same thing about Snape, if you recall," said Tonks.

"Severus is as insufferable as he ever was," said Regulus, "There is no question that he holds full favor with the Dark Lord. But other than that, I cannot tell you anything. He is a closed book."

"We know everything we need to know about that traitor," said Moody.

"I just can't believe you've been in hiding all these years," said Tonks. "It seems impossible."

"It isn't," said Aberforth and he turned to look at Harry.

"I could do the same for you, Potter," he said. "It's not too late."

"It may be worth considering," said Regulus, "before it really is."

Harry shook his head.

"It's been too late for over seventeen years," said Harry.

"It's easier than you might think," said Aberforth.

"Maybe," said Harry, "but that doesn't make it right, not for me, anyway."

Aberforth gave a fleeting grin and said, "Albus thought the world of you. He said you had more nerve than ten grown wizards and a heart as big as an ocean. I'm glad to see he wasn't wrong."

"I have to go," said Regulus. "I don't know when or if I can get back to you."

"Watch yourself," said Aberforth.

And before their eyes, he turned back into Adrian Baldwin, covered himself in cloak and hood and walked towards the door, the lock sliding for him and reengaging once he'd cleared the doorway.

"Harry," said Lupin, "I want you to go back with Jillian and Tonks. The rest of us need to talk with Aberforth."

"All right," he said, donning his Cloak once more and waiting for the signal that it was clear to return to the cellar in Honeydukes.

They were there in moments and Tonks took the lead into the tunnel.

"Are you okay?" Harry whispered to Jillian before they descended.

"I will be," she said. "I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw him. I appreciate you caring, but please don't blow you cover like that, again. I think you just gave Lupin a few more gray hairs."

"Clear," called Tonks, and they climbed down to join her.

Harry picked up the package the twins had left for him and the three of them made the underground trip back to Hogwarts, knowing they'd have to await whatever was coming next.


	24. Chapter 24: Where It Hurts

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: WHERE IT HURTS

Harry had returned to Hogwarts at the start of dinner and found Gryffindor Tower empty. He'd stolen upstairs to put away his Cloak and to open the package from Fred and George. As he'd read through their note, he'd been unable to do anything but marvel at their ingenuity. They'd given him a large supply of Dungbombs; only these weren't ordinary Dungbombs. The twins had found a way to combine them with the Cunfundus Charm. They might prove risky in a closely contained fight; but for moderate distances, one launched bomb could disorientate a group of your enemies and render them useless for a time. Harry had scanned through the rest of their instructions, finally finding one single word written neatly at the very bottom:

_Peeves_

Harry had laughed aloud as the paper began to burn before his eyes. He'd let it go and watched the tiny specks of black float away on the air. Only they could have thought of that password to reveal the cellar door in Honeydukes.

He'd caught up with Ron and Hermione towards the end of dinner and eaten very quickly so that he could fill them in on everything that happened that afternoon. They'd gone outside and even though the late March air had been chilled, nothing made them any colder than listening to Harry describe his encounter at the Ministry.

He'd told them about going to the Death Chamber and what happened when he used the two-way mirror in front of the archway. He'd left a few things out in order to guard Jillian's past, and one or two other things he simply wasn't quite ready to share with anyone. Harry was embarrassed to admit it, but there was a tiny part of him that had been afraid they'd think he'd truly gone daft. But he'd been wrong. His friends had been overjoyed to know he'd had a chance to say a proper goodbye to Sirius.

Both had lost the coloring from their faces when Harry told them Regulus Black was alive and well, and posing as a Death Eater under another identity. There was no hiding their worry as they, like him, wondered what Voldemort was planning. But they'd finally relaxed enough to laugh at the twins' brilliance when Harry told them about the modified Dungbombs and how to bypass the extra security at Honeydukes.

And then later that evening, Harry had been summoned to McGonagall's office for a brief meeting with Lupin.

As was the case with Kingsley, Lupin had not asked him why he'd needed to go the Ministry that day. And Lupin, like most of the others, had been too stunned over the reappearance of Regulus Black. No one seemed able to believe he'd been hidden all these years and that only two people had known he was alive.

But more than anything, Lupin and the others had been thunderstruck to learn about Davis and the Death Eater that had been impersonating him. Following a lot of research and interviews, the Order felt reasonably certain that the switch had only been made within the last forty-eight hours. It had probably happened as the real Davis was leaving from surveillance duty in Hogsmeade. He'd only been scheduled for Ministry detail for the next few days. Had Harry not gone to the Ministry, it would have been another day before the Order suspected anything was wrong when the real Davis would have failed to show up at headquarters. No amount of Polyjuice Potion would have provided the impostor with that location. Unfortunately, none of the others thought they had any chance of finding the real Davis alive ever again.

All these thoughts were still running through Harry's mind as he knocked at Professor Flitwick's door the following afternoon.

"Hello, Professor," said Harry.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," said Flitwick. "So tell me, what can I do for you? Surely, it's not about your lessons. I cannot tell you how pleased I am with all your hard work."

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry. "And no, it's not about our lessons. I need to talk to you about Rowena Ravenclaw."

Flitwick looked seriously at Harry, then climbed and sat upon his desk, indicating that Harry should take a seat.

"Are you helping Ms. Granger with her research?" he asked.

"No, Professor," answered Harry. "As a matter of fact, she's been helping me."

"I see," said Flitwick, his kind and discerning eyes upon Harry's. "Tell me what you need to know."

"Well, I need to know where to find the armor she once owned."

Flitwick jumped slightly.

"That's a very direct request," he replied. "And not one I was expecting. Very few people even know of it. Can you tell me how you found out about it?"

"Professor Dumbledore told me," said Harry.

"Oh," said Flitwick, mildly surprised. "Well, he was one of the few who knew the armor even existed, given that it was his ancestor that had it made for her."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"His ancestor?" said Harry, still befuddled. "Dumbledore said Godric Gryffindor gave the armor to Ravenclaw."

"That is true," said Flitwick, chuckling a little at the look upon Harry's face. "It seems Dumbledore neglected to tell you he was a direct descendent of Gryffindor's. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. He was overly modest about it, as he was about most things. I believe Minerva and I are probably the only two who know this information, other than his brother, Aberforth, of course. And now, you."

"I had no idea," admitted Harry.

"If you traveled southwest of here, just past the tallest mountain peak, you'd find a remote, but breathtaking stretch of open land. Near its center is a small village, which is the original home of Gryffindor. It is where Albus and Aberforth were raised," he informed Harry. "But enough about that, you wanted to know about the armor."

"Is any of the armor here in the castle?" asked Harry.

"Might I ask why you need to know this?" asked Flitwick.

"I'm sorry Professor, but no; I cannot tell you that."

"Can you tell me if it has anything to do with whatever you and Albus were doing on the night he was killed?" inquired Flitwick.

Harry hesitated only a moment, but then nodded and said, "Yes, very much so."

Flitwick climbed down from his desk and walked over to a very old, but intricately carved chest. He inserted a key into a lock on the lid and it sprung open very slowly. He did not need to look long to retrieve what he wanted.

He returned and stood on tiptoe in front of the desk at which Harry sat and unwrapped a length of dark blue fabric upon the desktop. One small key was visible.

"This is a key to a vault at Gringotts," said the tiny Professor. "To be specific, it is to the vault which belonged to Ravenclaw's last known descendant. When that descendant died at a suspiciously young age, his will stipulated that all remaining assets pass to Hogwarts."

Flitwick became quiet for a brief moment.

"You might also find it interesting to know that this descendent, though tied by maternal blood to Ravenclaw, was fathered by a wizard who belonged to Slytherin House. It was rumored that the father had been a great admirer of the Dark Lord, though no one was ever able to connect him with the Death Eaters."

Harry was fascinated by what he was hearing.

"As I have been head of Ravenclaw House for a very long time, Dumbledore thought it fitting that I maintain possession of the key. With the exception of a few of my favorite relics, everything else of Ravenclaw's that still resided in the castle was moved to this very same vault years ago."

Harry knew that Flitwick kept an abacus and an eagle's hunting hood in his private quarters. Hermione had come across them during their summer snooping sessions; and Flitwick had later confirmed during their interview that the items originally belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw.

"And when was that?" asked Harry, unaware that he was now sitting on the edge of his seat.

"It was the same year Professor Trelawney joined us on staff," said Flitwick.

This time, it was Harry who practically jumped as he felt a surge of anticipation.

"I have never let this out of my possession," said Professor Flitwick, fixing Harry with a penetrating look.

Flitwick then picked up the key and handed it to Harry.

"Is there anything else I can do, Mr. Potter?" he asked.

"No, Professor," he said, taking the key from Flitwick. "You've done more than I could have hoped for. Thank you."

Harry pocketed the key and was getting ready to leave the classroom when Dobby appeared with a loud crack.

"Professor, sir," started Dobby, speaking first to Professor Flitwick. "Headmistress sent me to bring Harry Potter to her, right away."

"Dobby?" said Harry, immediately taking in the frightened look on the house-elf's face.

"You must come now, Harry Potter, sir."

Harry raced to the gargoyle entrance and ran up the revolving staircase. He could hear muffled sounds coming from the office door, which opened from within before he'd even knocked.

A red eyed, tight lipped and crestfallen McGonagall opened the door for him.

Harry walked into the office and took in the picture before him. The office was packed with many of the Order standing around, all looking rather desolate. Hermione was standing behind a seated Ron, her face tear stained and her eyes frightened. Most alarming however, was the sight of the Weasleys.

Mr. Weasley was sitting there and looked as if he were in shock. Bill and Charlie, who'd been away on assignment at Christmas, were kneeling on either side of their father. Their eyes were red rimmed and their faces grave. Ron, who hadn't even registered Harry's arrival, looked like he was about to throw up. And there stood Fleur, trying to offer comfort to Fred and George, who were both unable to hold back the tears flowing down their faces. Harry's own heart skipped when he realized Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were not present.

Harry did not want to be here. He did not want to hear what he feared was probably coming.

Lupin had moved towards the doorway and placed a gentle hand upon Harry's shoulder. His eyes were full of sadness as he leaned in and in a respectful whisper, told Harry what Harry least wanted to know.

"We lost Molly and Percy earlier today."

He said some other things, but Harry didn't hear them. He saw Lupin's lips moving, but he couldn't make out the words because blood was rushing through his head and ears. Vertigo was taking over and Harry had to close his eyes and count backwards to try and steady himself.

There was no way any of this could be true. Percy was too big a git to bother murdering and Mrs. Weasley was safe inside Grimmauld Place. This was a mistake - a sick, twisted mistake.

When Harry finally opened his own eyes, he found Ron looking at him. Their friendship had been cemented that very first day on the train ride to Hogwarts. Harry thought he knew absolutely everything there was to know about his best friend; but he'd never seen such an expression on Ron's face.

When the first tear finally rolled off the tip of Ron's freckled nose, Harry knew there'd been no mistake. He would have given anything to be able to make this all go away for him; but he couldn't. All he could do was share in his grief. Harry felt the wetness on his own face, and realized he was unable to find any words to express the sadness and horror he felt.

But through the haze of awfulness, he again realized that Ginny was missing.

Hermione, still looking after him and Ron after all these years, read the paralyzing fear in his expression and spoke quietly through her own tears.

"Ginny ran out of here, Harry," she said. "Charlie tried to go after her, but…"

"She hexed me," said Charlie, half crying and half laughing. "Our baby sister actually hexed me."

"Go find her, Harry," said Ron, his voice cracking with each word. "She shouldn't be…"

Ron couldn't finish whatever he wanted to say, as he finally broke down and Hermione knelt down to hold him.

"Do you need the map?" she managed to ask Harry, mouthing the last word, as she hugged Ron tightly.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. He'd never need a map to find her. All he had to do was follow his heart.

The rest of the school didn't yet know what happened, but those who spotted Harry as he headed downstairs and out the door knew something was wrong. They would find out soon enough.

Harry walked towards Hagrid's hut, and finding it deserted outside, knew he'd come to right place. He walked towards the middle of the vegetable patch and exchanged greetings with Buckbeak.

"Have you had another visitor today?" asked Harry quietly, as he ran his hand along the creature's beak.

Buckbeak eyed him and looked towards the overgrowth that marked the entrance into the forest.

"I thought so, my friend," he said. "I'll see you later."

Harry did not have to go far. He caught a glimpse of red in his peripheral vision as he walked into the well-worn path. Just to the left of it sat Ginny. She'd come to the very spot where she and Harry had spent hours together last spring. It had been their special place, with only Buckbeak to keep them company.

"You don't forget anything, do you?" she asked as she heard him approach.

"Not the things that matter to me," he answered.

Harry sat down next to her and waited for her to look up. She finally did, her eyes dry and far away. He reached out for her hand, but she pulled away.

"Sorry," she said. "But I'm not ready to break down, just yet. I know that probably sounds pretty mental, but my anger is the only thing keeping me in one piece."

Harry definitely understood what that felt like it.

"You don't have to explain," he said.

"Not to you, I don't," she said quietly. "I always liked that about us."

Ginny was all over the place. One minute she was talking about end of year exams and the next she was trying to figure out what flowers were appropriate for funerals.

Harry let her go on like that for quite some time.

The temperature dropped as the afternoon faded away. Harry conjured a glass bowl and lit a fire within it, setting it between them. Ginny didn't seem to notice that Harry had done so without use of his wand.

"Did they tell you what happened?" she finally asked.

He knew Lupin had tried, but nothing registered.

"No, not really," said Harry.

"They got to Percy, first," she began. "probably just before he would have left for work. His flat was a wreck. It looks like he put up quite a fight. But they weren't done yet. They took his body and dropped it at the visitor's entrance to the Ministry. Can you believe that?"

Harry listened as Ginny told him everything. She spoke as if telling a scary story around a campfire. She was disconnected from what she knew really happened.

"Ministry personnel went up to investigate and found him, surrounded by a few Muggles who'd been passing the phone booth entrance. Minister Scrimgeour went to Dad's office and told him something had happened.

Harry did not want to imagine that scene. He'd never forgotten Mr. Diggory's cries when he saw Cedric's lifeless body.

"Kingsley was already at the Ministry. He reached Lupin and then rushed back to headquarters. They arrived within moments of each other, but Mum wasn't there."

Mrs. Weasley was normally always at headquarters. In fact, Harry couldn't remember ever hearing about her being anywhere else since they'd taken up residence at Grimmauld Place.

"They found a basket of laundry strewn across the floor. When Kingsley went to examine it, he came across that infernal clock of hers," continued Ginny, still sounding like she was talking from some far away place. "The glass face was smashed, but there was no mistaking what it had last shown her. Eight hands were still pointed at mortal danger, but the hand representing Percy was spinning around madly."

Mrs. Weasley's worst nightmare had come true and she'd left headquarters.

"Kingsley contacted the Ministry to see if Mum had shown up there. When he was told she hadn't, he and Lupin figured she'd gone straight to Percy's. They dispatched Ministry Aurors to his flat and met them there. They found Mum; and the flat was a mess. That's when they worked out Percy had been ambushed there, and Mum evidently showed up before the Death Eaters left."

Mrs. Weasley had been operating on pure maternal instinct; and instead of going to the Ministry, had gone directly to Percy's flat.

"I always hated that clock," said Ginny, her voice wavering for the very first time since Harry found her.

"Ginny," started Harry, but she cut him off.

"I know. I can't stay out here forever," she said.

"Are you ready?" he asked as he got slowly to his feet.

"No," she said with complete earnestness as she looked up at him.

When Harry reached out for her this time, she did not pull away. He held her and she clung to him, as if to a life buoy.

Lupin's Patronus suddenly circled them and Harry knew the others were getting worried.

Hand in hand, they walked back to the castle.

Word had begun to spread and students were watching them as they made their way up the stairs and into the expansive entry hall.

Terry Boot was there, but he did not move forward. He simply looked at Harry with Ginny, nodded and walked away. The surviving Weasley brothers were gathered at the top of the first flight of stairs, Hermione and Fleur with them. As soon as Ginny saw them, her nightmare became real.

Charlie made his way down to them and Ginny cracked, shattering Harry right along with her. She flew into Charlie's waiting arms and he picked her up, much as he had probably done hundreds of times when she was a little girl.

"Thanks," he whispered, clasping Harry firmly on one shoulder. "Come on, Dad's been asking for you, too."

Harry wasn't sure if his own legs would move; but they did, and he joined his surrogate family and headed back upstairs.

Mr. Weasley seemed rather unwell, and McGonagall insisted he rest in the hospital wing. Harry sat waiting in the outer corridor while Ginny spent some time alone with her father. Ron and Hermione joined him, with Hermione taking up position between them, holding each of their hands. Harry looked at Ron over her head and he returned Harry's gaze. Words somehow seemed woefully useless and they didn't really need any.

"Harry," Hermione eventually said hesitantly, "was Flitwick able to tell you anything else?"

Harry was startled by her question. With everything that happened, he'd somehow forgotten about the tiny gold key in his pocket.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "but we can talk about it later."

"If it'll help find the Ravenclaw Horcrux," whispered Ron, his voice hoarse, "let's hear it, then."

Harry looked at him again, amazed by his friend's determination.

"Nothing is going to bring either of them back," Ron said. "But if you don't get to Voldemort, I swear I am going to."

Hermione blanched but didn't say anything else as she looked anxiously at Harry.

Harry pulled the key from his pocket and showed it to them. In careful whispers he told them about the vault.

"So you've got to go to Gringotts?" asked Hermione, her voice echoing slightly.

"Yeah, and the sooner, the better," said Harry in a hushed tone, an uneasy feeling creeping into his bones.

"Did I hear something about Gringotts?" came a voice and they looked up to see Bill exiting from the hospital wing. Harry hadn't realized he'd been in there with Ginny and Mr. Weasley.

No one answered, and Bill, grieving or not, was smart enough to sense something was up. He looked at all three of them very seriously, his scar tissue cutting rigid patterns across his face.

"Harry?" asked Bill.

The timing sucked, but Harry knew Bill was his best chance of getting in and out of the Wizarding bank without being discovered.

"I need to get into Gringotts," said Harry.

"We need to get in there," said Ron. "Can you help?"

If Bill found this a strange request, he didn't comment on it. He simply looked at his watch.

"Harry, you can head in and see Dad. I'll go borrow a couple of Cloaks from Moody and Jillian. Meet me down the hall in twenty minutes," he said, meaning by the One-Eyed Witch.

Bill, Hermione and Ron left and Harry walked into the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey inclined her head in greeting and pointed at a large area screened off in a far corner.

When Harry entered, he found Mr. Weasley propped against pillows, watching Ginny, who'd fallen asleep across the foot of his bed. He looked up as Harry repositioned one of the screens.

"Ginny used to crawl into our bed like this all the time when she was younger," said Mr. Weasley, a soft smile on his lips. "I don't think she actually slept a full night in her own bed until she was about five."

Harry sat in a chair next to the bed and found it difficult to look at the man who had never shown him anything but kindness. He had to swallow back the knot forming in his throat.

"I've spent most of the last few hours telling my other children how much I love them," he began. "I wish to heaven I could do that once more with Percy. Anger is such a foolish thing to hold onto. Molly was different, though. She reached out to him every chance she got. My one comfort in all of this is that I know they are together, now."

Harry could feel one hot tear coursing down his cheek.

"There's a reason I asked to see you, Harry," said Mr. Weasley.

"I'll do anything you need me to, Mr. Weasley," said Harry.

"I know that, my boy," he said. "All I need you to do is remember that you are a part of this family, always. I don't care what else does or does not happen. You've had a place in our home and our hearts for a very long time. We couldn't love you anymore if you had red hair and freckles."

Harry managed to choke out a small laugh as he wiped at his face.

"I don't think I realized how much I needed to hear that until just now," admitted Harry.

"I knew you needed to hear it," said Mr. Weasley. "Grief makes us do strange things. You've had more than your fair share of it and I didn't want to see you shutting yourself off."

"Am I still really that transparent?" asked Harry.

"No, actually you seem quite different," said Mr. Weasley, taking Harry a bit by surprise. "But who knows you better than us?"

"No one," said Harry, hoping it was indeed true. Because if Voldemort sensed anything about him, they were going to be done before they even started.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thirty minutes later, Harry, Ron and Hermione, still hidden beneath Invisibility Cloaks, were standing beside Bill Weasley in the marbled atrium of Gringotts Banks.

"I am surprised to see you here this evening, Weasley," said a security goblin. "We heard about your family. You have our condolences."

"Thank you, Godin," said Bill. "I hadn't planned on coming in; but I was tired of sitting around and doing nothing but thinking about things I can't change. I thought a few hours work might distract me some."

"Well, it certainly won't hurt," said the security goblin. "I'll be going about my rounds, then."

"Oh, can you leave out one of the vault carts?" asked Bill casually. "While I'm here, I promised Harry Potter I'd make a withdrawal for him."

"That will not be a problem. I shall set it for the Potter vault. Let me know if you need anything else," said the goblin as he left the atrium.

Bill walked over to his desk and sat down, flipping through a few stacks of papers. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed slowly. They were each glad they'd changed clothes and shoes, their trainers barely making any sound on the shiny floor.

"All right?" asked Bill quietly.

"Yes," they whispered.

"Good," he said. "We'll need to wait a bit for Godin to make his way down to the high security vaults with the other guards. Fortunately for us, the vault you want isn't one of those, or we'd be in a pickle."

"At least something seems to be going right today," said Ron, and Bill looked in the direction of his voice.

"I know, Ron," he said compassionately, then switched back to the matter at hand. "Actually, the vault isn't that far from Harry's, so I'll open both and hang back nearer there in case any one comes. I'll have to close you inside the other, I'm afraid. Any idea how much time you need?"

"Not really," said Harry. "We have a general idea of what we're looking for, but not how many things we'll need to search through."

"Well, to be on the safe side, I'll open it every ten minutes. If more than ten minutes pass, don't panic; I'll only be late if one of the guards shows up."

"Sounds good," said Harry.

"Follow me," said Bill and led the way to the cart that would take them down to the vaults. "It's going to be a tight fit."

And it was. Harry had not been in one of these in a long time, and all four of them were sitting with their knees drawn up against their chins. Bill unlocked Harry's vault first, but did not open the door very far. Next, he hurried a little ways down the tunnel and unlocked and opened the second vault. It was filled with too much for Harry to take in all at once.

"Get inside," said Bill and they filed in. "Okay, I'll be back in exactly ten minutes."

The door closed tightly and Harry heard Bill turn the lock. They threw off their Cloaks and looked around. The room emitted its own strange light, but Hermione pulled her wand and small candles danced around the ceiling.

There were lots of items in the vault: books and ledgers, scales and strange tools the likes of which Harry had never seen. Judging by Hermione's expression, she knew what several of them were and Harry knew she'd give anything to be able to explore in here at her leisure.

"If we find what we're looking for, I'll beg Bill to bring you back again," said Ron, also seeing the longing expression in her eyes.

"Oh, all right," she said, exasperatedly. "We're looking for armor, right?"

"Yep," said Harry. "Any part of it. I don't care how small. Yell if you find something."

They were still searching when Bill opened the door exactly ten minutes later.

"Nothing, yet," mouthed Ron and Bill closed and relocked the door.

Several additional minutes passed and Harry stopped shifting items.

"Wow," he said, and Hermione and Ron came to see what caught his attention.

He'd uncovered a small dagger. It looked to be made from the same steel as Gryffindor's sword. Instead of rubies, the handle was inlaid with sapphires that gleamed in the candlelight. Ravenclaw's name was not etched on it, but there was no denying it had belonged to her.

"Did Dumbledore say anything about a weapon?" asked Ron.

"No," Harry said, replaying his visit with the portrait in his head. "He specifically said armor. But don't most of the suits of armor near the trophy room have sword sheaths on them, or axes?"

"Yes, they do," said Hermione. "Harry, what's that underneath it?"

Harry touched the dagger with the tip of his finger and when nothing happened, lifted it slowly and set it aside. At first, he though it was some weird sort of bowl, but then he noticed the shape wasn't symmetrical.

Ron pulled his wand and used it to levitate and flip the item over on its other side. And that's when they realized what it actually was. It was a breast plate, and one end of it was so narrow it had to have been made for a woman's waist.

"What do you think?" asked Ron. "This or the dagger?"

"I think it's the breast plate," said Hermione.

"Me, too," said Ron.

"That's three in favor of the breast plate," said Harry, just as Bill opened the door.

"That's a goblin made breast plate," said Bill, the moment he saw what they were looking at.

He took a risk and stepped into the vault with them, closing the door behind him. Bill had been a curse-breaker for years and had probably seen more treasure and artifacts than they would ever see in their combined lifetimes.

"Can you tell if it's cursed?" asked Ron.

"Well, if you want to know if you'll die if you touch it, the answer is no. Nothing gets into Gringotts without being tested for things like that. It doesn't mean you won't get some other kind of surprise, but I doubt you'd die right away."

"We need to take this out of here," said Harry.

"Okay," he said, swallowing whatever shock or hesitancy he felt and pulling out a pair of dragon hide gloves from his pocket. "Tools of the trade," he added, handing the gloves to Harry.

Harry knew Bill was bound by his Order oath not to ask any questions; but something was telling Harry he needed more of Bill's help to finish this.

"Actually, it needs to be destroyed," said Harry, pulling on the gloves and carefully picking up the breastplate.

Nothing happened, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Good luck. Goblin made armor is one of the most indestructible materials on earth," said Bill. "It been coveted for centuries, non more so than during times of war."

"Isn't there anything that can destroy it?" asked Hermione.

"There are a few things. An active volcano would do the trick," said Bill, and then his eyes lit. "Or a direct fire strike from a dragon."

"It's true, then?" asked Harry, remembering Hagrid telling him on his first trip to Gringotts that the high security vaults were rumored to be guarded by dragons.

"Is what true?" asked Hermione and Ron.

"Never mind that," said Bill, pulling his wand and getting rid of Hermione's candles. "Put your Cloaks on and follow me. We're only going to get one shot at this, so make it count."

Bill opened the door slowly and peaked his head out. The corridor was empty. He told them to go wait in the cart as he closed and locked the Ravenclaw vault and jogged a short distance to do the same to Harry's. When he was seated next to them, he explained what he had planned.

"The high security vaults start one level below," he said. "I'll call out one of the vault numbers from below and the we'll be on our way. The guards will see me and eventually stop me. I'll make up some excuse as to why I am down there. That should buy you some time to wait for the shooting flames."

He was making it all up as they sat there.

"Harry, I hope your aim is still on point. You'll need to launch that thing from a good distance," he said.

"You two," he said to Ron and Hermione, "can stand in front of him for extra cover once the cart stops. Make sure those Cloaks are on good. The guards cannot know you are here. If they do, You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters will be the least of our troubles."

And given the horrible events of today, they understood just how dangerous a move they were making.

"Number eight hundred sixty-four," said Bill aloud and the little cart took off.

Sure enough, several goblins shouted as Bill whizzed past them one level down; and when the cart finally slowed on the next level, two guards hurried towards them, one of them Godin, whom they'd seen in the atrium.

"Weasley, what are you doing down here?" he demanded.

"Sorry, Godin. I did go to Potter's vault," said Bill, surprising Harry when he pulled a pouch of coins from his pocket. "I got back in the cart and was trying to remember the street number for my brother's girlfriend's house – I was planning to go by there next, to see how she was holding up – and I said the number aloud."

The guards looked a little less angry.

"I guess maybe I'm not ready to be back here," said Bill, making a show of running his hands through his hair and looking overwhelmed.

Meanwhile, the cart had stopped one level above and several yards forward of a vault that was indeed guarded by a dragon. Harry had to take a double look and he knew Ron and Hermione were doing the same from beneath their Cloaks. As Bill talked their way out of this mess, Harry leaned over the edge of the cart and waited for his chance. He saw the telltale sign of little puffs of white smoke rising; and then, just as he knew it would, the dragon opened its wide mouth and an inferno shot up from beneath them. Harry launched the breast plate from beneath his Cloak, hoping he'd judged the angle correctly.

He strained to hear the sound of metal on stone that would tell him he'd missed. It never came. Instead, a streak of brilliant red light shot from beneath them and distracted the goblins.

"Go with the others and see what that was," said Godin to the goblin beside him, and then he turned to Bill. "Go home to your family, Weasley. You will know when you are ready to return."

Bill nodded and plopped dejectedly back into his seat. Godin tapped the outside of the cart and it raced back up to the atrium level.

"Sshh," said Bill as he stopped by his desk to retrieve his bag and put on his own hooded, although not invisible, cloak. He did not speak a single word until they were outside and standing in front of the bank.

"On my count," he said to them, and together, they vanished from Diagon Alley and were back in the cellar of Honeydukes. Bill waved his wand and with the silently thought password, revealed the concealed trap door.

He jumped down and called for them to follow. He sent his own Patronus forward to make sure someone from the Order would be on the other end when they arrived. With the cellar door resealed, he waved his wand and lit the wall torches.

Once Tonks's Patronus replied, they were allowed to remove their Cloaks.

"Nice shot, Harry," he said.

"Nice diversion, Bill," said Harry. "You were incredible."

"You really were, Bill," said Hermione.

And for the first time that day, Ron actually smiled. It was clear why the others looked up to the eldest Weasley sibling so much.

"I can't tell you how much you just helped," said Harry.

"If it helps get us one step closer to the end of whatever is next, then it was worth it," he said. "Come on, let's get you back."

He clasped Ron about the shoulder and told him to take the lead. Hermione and Harry followed, as Bill brought up the rear of their procession.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Harry. He knew what she was thinking. They'd found and destroyed three of the last four Horcruxes. This was it. The last would fall when they met Voldemort and his Death Eaters head on. The only questions remaining were when and where.


	25. Chapter 25: The Endless Night

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: THE ENDLESS NIGHT

Harry hardly slept that night. He finally gave up trying for fear his tossing and turning would wake Dean, Seamus and Neville. They'd waited up for them last night, wanting to express their sorrow over the losses the Weasleys suffered. But Ron had not returned to Gryffindor Tower.

McGonagall had gone one step further and turned half the hospital wing into accommodations for the Weasley family. None of them wanted to return to Grimmauld Place and the Burrow was out of the question. So with a few flicks, she and Flitwick created a comfortable and private space where they could all be together.

Harry and Hermione opted to return to their dormitories, but promised to have breakfast with the Weasleys.

Kingsley, Lupin and Moody had stayed overnight and it didn't appear that they had plans on leaving anytime soon.

Harry knew breakfast was still hours away, but he couldn't lie in bed any longer. He crept downstairs to the darkened common room and plopped into his favorite chair. It only took him a second to realize he wasn't alone.

"Hi, Hermione," he said.

"Stop doing that," she replied. "It's rather spooky, you know."

She waved her wand and rekindled the fire that had long since burned out.

"I couldn't sleep," she added.

"Welcome to my world."

"I keep waiting for someone to pinch me and tell me that yesterday was all a horrible nightmare," she said. "I want to hear Mrs. Weasley yelling at the twins and I want to see Percy walking around ignoring everyone else."

"I know," he said.

"I hate feeling like this, feeling so helpless. It's just like when you lost Sirius," she said, her cheeks coloring even in the firelight.

"It's okay," he said. "The words don't really do very much. But being there for Ron and the others like you have been is what will get them through this. It's just going to take a lot of time."

"You really shouldn't be an expert on grief at the age of seventeen, you know. Then again, you shouldn't be stalked by a mass murdering madman, either, so what do I know," she said in exasperation.

Harry stared at her and then actually managed a small laugh.

They talked and nodded off, waking up on and off to talk some more about everything under the sun, as long as it didn't involve death, murder or destruction.

A knock at the window finally woke Harry from his deepest slumber of the morning. It was Hedwig, with a note in her beak. Harry let her in and she glided happily around the room before landing on his shoulder.

"What you got there, girl?" he asked, summoning an owl treat for her and trading it for the note she still held.

Harry opened the note and saw Hagrid's handwriting.

_I heard about what happened to Molly and Percy. I feel awful for Ron and his family. Things are getting really bad. Fang and I just wanted to know how you and Hermione were holding up._

Hagrid 

"What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione, pulling herself upright on the sofa.

"It's Hagrid, checking in on us," he said. "I'll go down and see him later today."

"Well, we'd better get changed," she said. "Are you going to talk to Lupin and Moody after breakfast?"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry. "They need to know that at least one part of this complete."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was late afternoon before Lupin and Moody were able to meet with him. This time they were meeting in Tonks's quarters, and Moody sealed the room after Harry's arrival.

"You said it was important and that Moody and I both needed to be here," said Lupin. "Has something else happened?"

"Well, yes," said Harry, finding it oddly difficult to say what he needed to, because afterwards, there'd be no turning back. "It's finished."

"What's finished, Potter?" asked Moody, but Lupin had that glint of understanding in his eyes.

"What Dumbledore and I started last year," clarified Harry. "It's finished."

"Are you certain?" asked Lupin.

"Yes," said Harry. "Although it wouldn't have happened without a lot of help from Ron and Hermione. And Bill stepped in big time last night. There is one more thing, but it can't happen until—until Voldemort shows up."

"What do you mean shows up?" asked Lupin.

"I mean it's time to face him and his henchmen," said Harry, sounding far more confident than he actually felt. "I can't remain at Hogwarts forever."

"But are you ready?" asked Moody.

"I don't think I ever can be, really. Could I learn more things in a month or three months?" asked Harry. "Absolutely. But Voldemort isn't going to wait for me to sit N.E.W.T.s or for me to build up more nerve. He proved that yesterday. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen soon and we might as well start planning for it."

"He's right, Remus," said Moody. "I know you don't like to hear it, and neither to do I; but Potter is right."

"I know," said Lupin, and he looked pained as he said it.

"We'll have to call in the others this evening," said Moody.

"Let's meet back at nine o'clock," said Lupin, glancing at his worn watch.

"You're with us tonight, Potter," said Moody.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Hagrid, "I see yeh in front of me, but yer mind sure is someplace else."

Harry had come down to see him right after dinner and Hermione had gone off to the hospital wing.

"Sorry, Hagrid," he said. "I'm just thinking about the Weasleys."

It wasn't a complete lie. The Weasleys were definitely on his mind, along with everything else.

"Umh, it's sad, really sad," said Hagrid. "I went to see 'em fer a spell this afternoon. It's hard, but they got each other, Harry. And they got yeh and Hermione, too. They'll be okay. Yeh just wait and see."

"I hope you're right," said Harry, as he drank from the oversized cup of tea Hagrid poured for him.

Harry looked at his watch and saw that he had an hour before the biggest meeting of his life.

"I guess yeh should be gettin' back," said Hagrid. "Come on, I'll walk with yeh. McGonagall wants to see me at nine, anyway."

Hagrid didn't know Harry would be the reason for tonight's meeting.

They'd just stood up from the table when the floor felt like it moved. Harry had definitely felt something, but Hagrid hadn't seemed to really notice. Then it happened again, and there was no ignoring it. Plates and cups rattled from their hooks and crashed to the floor. A low growl was coming from Fang, who stood stock still in the corner, his ears flat. The next jolt nearly knocked Harry against the table.

Hagrid raced out the door, yelling for Harry to stay back, but there was no chance of that. Harry ran behind him and stood outside, looking towards the main gates and waiting for the second nightmare in two days to vanish before him.

"GIANTS!" yelled Hagrid. "IT'S GIANTS!"

There were half a dozen of them and Harry had never seen anything so huge. The Order who were stationed on the grounds came out of hidden nooks and began running towards the gates. Harry raised his wand and a shower of vivid blue sparks lit the sky.

Every inch of Hogwarts was protected with some of the most powerful spells, incantations and jinxes imaginable. But giants were a different breed of magic all their own. Harry didn't know if, or how long the gates would hold against the relentless damage those powerful beings could inflict.

Hagrid turned back to the cabin and grabbed his crossbow, taking off in an earth-rattling run of his own to join the Order who were headed for the gates.

Harry went to retrieve his own bow and quiver from just inside the cabin and took off in the same direction. When he reached the gates, his breath hitched.

The gates were still holding, but you could see the wrought iron beginning to buckle in spots where the giants were hammering away at them with clubs. But the Order was having trouble casting spells beyond Moody's magical barrier to try and push back the giants. Only Hagrid's arrows seemed to have enough arc to consistently clear the barrier; but he couldn't cause very much damage to them on his own.

Harry turned into the faint glow cast by the now open double entry doors of the castle. Others were running towards them, but they were a still a good distance away.

Harry loaded his own bow, aimed and just as he released it, thought "_Incendio Maxima,_" and saw the length of the arrow burst with scorching flame as it soared over the barrier and embedded itself in the neck of one of the giants.

The giant roared with pain as it tried to remove the burning arrow. It was slightly injured, but now also increasingly angry.

Kipling took his cue from Harry and ran to Hagrid's side, pulling his wand and setting every one of Hagrid's released arrows ablaze.

DeSousa and Kingsley were the first of the others to reach the gates, Jillian and Tonks on their heels.

"DAMN!" said DeSousa and that about summed it up.

More rumbling could be heard and Harry feared more giants were on the way. But he was wrong. The rumbling was coming from their side of the gates. He'd heard that sound two years ago in the forest. It was unmistakable. The centaurs were thundering across the grounds, inches of raised dust from the ground ushering their approach.

Lupin and Moody had arrived and were standing on either side of Harry as the centaurs drew closer. There had to be nearly a hundred of them and they looked feral. Magorian was dead center in the first row, facing Harry. Bane and Ronan flanked him.

"I believe we could be of aid, Harry Potter," said Magorian, his head held high and his eyes unwavering.

Harry's heart soared.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance, Magorian," said Harry and moved forward to offer his hand to the centaur.

Bane looked distrusting as ever, but said nothing as Magorian reached out and shook Harry's hand.

"Tell me what you'd like us to do," said Magorian.

"Line your centaurs along the width of the gates and walls," said Harry. "The others will stand beside each of you and ignite your arrows as soon as you release them. Just like that," Harry said, pointing to Hagrid and Kipling who were still trying to inflict some damage.

Magorian nodded.

"We don't want to lower the protective barriers on the gates, so you'll need a lot of arc to clear them," said Harry.

"That is a simple task for us," said Magorian and Harry was glad to hear him say it.

"As you can see, there are six of them, so if you can set up teams to target each one, we can probably overpower them."

"You heard the young wizard," called Magorian to his centaurs. "Move out."

And so they did. If Harry hadn't been so busy firing his own blazing arrows above the barrier line, he might have taken a moment to appreciate they'd brought about something that would have made the destroyed Fountain of Magical Brethren weep tears of joy.

Two of the giants finally fell in succession, their death cries as loud and agonizing as their battle cries had been. And now with more centaurs free to attack the remaining four, the more injured of the giants began to retreat. But the distance seemed not to matter for Magorian and his centaurs. Their arrows were relentless and found their marks time and time again; and the centaurs' strength seeming to increase as the fight wore on.

Just as a third giant succumbed, another one lumbered into view and Harry thought they were going to be overrun by them. But Hagrid's shout made him look again and he saw that it was Grawp, who wasted no time uprooting a tree and swinging it until it cracked against the base of the skull of one of the larger giants. The ground shook so hard when it fell that several of the centaurs and Order lost their footing and found themselves thrown to the ground. Grawp began trading blows with the last two giants. The centaurs and Order kept up their deadly volley of flaming arrows. And finally, Harry could just make out a huge foot in the distance as the last once collapsed in retreat. The ground was blessedly still.

The centaurs kept their bows loaded, but lowered them at their sides. The Order began looking around.

"What happened to the Ministry guards on the other side of the gates?" asked Kipling.

"I don't like to think about it," answered DeSousa. "Let's hope they were able to Disapparate to Hogsmeade. They wouldn't have stood a chance by themselves against those giants."

"For a moment there, I didn't think we did either," said Kipling. "The gates were taking a serious beating."

"Well, the plan worked," said Kingsley. "Good work."

"Yeah, it was," said Kipling. "But I can't take credit for it. You can thank Potter for coming up with that one on his own. I was just following his lead when you arrived."

"Well, it wouldn't have done any good until Magorian and the others showed up," said Harry.

"Thank you," said Lupin to Magorian. "We will not forget this."

"And why didn't backup come from Hogsmeade?" asked DeSousa. "There's no way they couldn't see or hear what just happened."

"Something's wrong," said Lupin.

And before anyone else had a chance to even consider what might be coming next, loud and terrified screams tore through the night.

It was a woman and she sounded like she was screaming for her very soul. She was running towards them on the road that led to and from Hogsmeade. Actually, she was staggering towards them, and she looked to be in pretty bad shape. The woman collapsed a few yards shy of the gates, but she lifted her face and you could hear the collective gasp from those on the other side.

It was Narcissa Malfoy, or what used to be her.

"Please help me," she begged. "They've taking over Hogsmeade. I slipped away during a fight. I cannot go back. Please do not let them find me. I would rather die."

Harry didn't think there was one among them who didn't believe that her last statement was indeed true.

Moody and Lupin looked at each other for a long moment.

"What's happening out here?" came McGonagall's voice.

She'd come down from the castle, but she wasn't alone. Bill, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were with her. There was a line of students illuminated under the open entrance to the castle. They were too far away to make out individually, but Harry could see their stances, and knew it was the rest of the D.A.

"We told you it would be better if you stayed inside, Minerva," said Moody.

"Alastor, this is my school and I will go wherever I am needed," she retorted. "This lot," she said with a wave at Bill and the D.A. standing with him, "has taken care of things inside, so I felt it prudent to find out what was going on out here. Now, I ask again, what is happening?"

Harry and the others did not answer her. They had turned to Bill and the D.A.

"Your contacts came through," said Bill, and the Order who'd been outside looked extremely relieved.

"And Charlie, Fred and George are waiting with the others," said Hermione to Harry, meaning they were in the tunnel. "Professors Flitwick, Slughorn and the other teachers are standing guard over the ones we couldn't reach. Dobby and the other house-elves Apparated a lot more to safety."

"We didn't know what was happening out here," added Ron. "It sounded like the castle was going to be swallowed whole."

"Are those giants?" asked Luna calmly, as she glanced past the gates and saw huge body parts across the road.

McGonagall wiped at her glasses, and saw exactly what Luna had seen. But before she could say a word, a second plea for mercy reached all their ears.

"Help me," cried Narcissa, more loudly this time.

McGonagall saw Narcissa Malfoy prostrate in the road and her thin mouth went nearly colorless.

"She's the wife of a Death Eater," said Moody, making his position on the matter clear.

"I know who she is," said McGonagall. "Let her in."

Moody still hadn't budged.

"I understand your concern, Alastor," she said. "But she is one woman. She cannot do anything to us. What would Albus have you do?"

Moody's lips turned up in a snarl, but he waved his wand and began mumbling a series of incantations. When he was finished, he nodded at one of the Order who'd been stationed on the grounds.

"Go retrieve her, Matthews," he said. "And make it quick."

Matthews squeezed through the small opening and walked into the road, looking carefully around as he did so. He'd no sooner bent down to pick up Narcissa when he was surrounded by swirling masses of black that turned out to be an army of Death Eaters. He was down before anyone could blink and the gates to the school swung wide.

The Order and centaurs ran up and out to meet the onslaught. They had to keep the Death Eaters from crossing the gates, while Moody worked to restore the barriers he'd lifted. Thankfully, he'd not lifted the Anti-Apparition spell.

Harry found himself side by side with Bill as they joined the fray. As soon as they'd beaten back the first group of Death Eaters, more appeared to take their place. They were moving into the next assault when arrows shot through the air. Harry saw something attached to the first one and he yelled for the Order to retreat back.

They did and Harry watched as the first arrow landed in front of three Death Eaters. It only took a second for the Confundus Charm to render them useless. Someone had summoned the Dungbombs; and the centaurs were launching them. The Order made quick work of overpowering their attackers.

The smoke cleared and the Death Eaters appeared to have lost this battle. A few of the Order and the centaurs were injured, but they didn't appear to have lost anyone else except Matthews. The Order began moving back towards the gates, watching for any signs of movement. When only Lupin, DeSousa and Harry were left to cross back through the gates, it was Lupin who stooped to lift Narcissa Malfoy from the ground.

"Tsk, tsk," came a voice Harry hated. "You really have sunk as low as possible, my dear. I tried so hard to get you to see reason."

It was Lucius Malfoy. He had arrived silently and he was not alone. He was with Dolohov, whom they'd fought at the Ministry, and three other Death Eaters they'd never seen. But standing at his father's other side was Draco.

No one moved. Lucius had Madam Rosmerta pinned before him. He was using her as a shield. Narcissa had not been lying. They had taken over Hogsmeade.

"If you come along quietly, Potter, we may just decide to let your friends live through tonight," crooned Lucius.

Jillian provided their first needed distraction. She and Tonks were among the last to cross the gate and she was just behind Harry, Lupin and DeSousa.

An unknown Death Eater yelled as he was struck with an unseen spell and he dropped to the ground, his wand falling from his outstretched hand.

Harry, Lupin and DeSousa moved quickly, exchanging wand fire with the others. One more fell before them just as Jillian and Kingsley raced back out the gates to join them. But a cry from Madam Rosmerta forced them to yield, yet again.

Lucius had broken the arm pinned behind her back without a moment's hesitation.

"You are all so pathetically weak," said Lucius loudly. "You can't even stand to hear a woman cry. It's a good thing you weren't at the Weasley boy's flat, then. His mother's cries were gut wrenching. But not to worry, we put her out of her misery rather quickly. Sadly, things didn't go as quickly for her son."

Harry really wanted to summon one more Dungbomb, but they were too close to Lucius and his men.

"We always wondered how that Ministry poster boy ended up in Gryffindor," said Dolohov gleefully of Percy. "He seemed so different from the others. But in the end, he proved as foolishly noble and stubborn as the rest of you. He even killed one of our newer recruits. I guess the Sorting Hat had it right, after all."

"Draco," said Lucius, "retrieve Max's wand. You need a replacement."

Draco moved from his father's side and walked to the fallen Death Eater. He picked up the wand and looked at his mother as he stood. His face showed absolutely nothing. Harry though he looked like a zombie.

A gust of wind made them all look up just in time to see Buckbeak diving towards them. The hippogriff opened its massive beak and then blood sprayed everywhere. He'd picked up the last unknown Death Eater by the neck and torn his head clean off.

The next thing anyone knew a cry of "_Avada Kedavra_" rang out. It had been Draco, and the Order was desperate to see which of them had been hit.

But it wasn't one of them. It was Lucius and his eyes were locked in a perpetual state of shock as he'd looked at his son and fallen flat to the ground.

Draco had just killed his own father, his spell passing mere inches above Madam Rosmerta's head, and Harry watched as a flicker of light returned to his flat eyes.

"Get the women and get in the gates," called Lupin, and Draco obeyed immediately, making a quick grab for the injured Rosmerta while the others provided cover. He dropped the Death Eater's wand as he knelt to help Narcissa to her feet and the three stumbled behind the iron gates.

"Harry," said Lupin as they continued firing at Dolohov, "get in."

If they did not stop him, Dolohov would Disapparate back to Voldemort's side. Harry really shouldn't have cared, but he kept hearing their taunts about Percy and Mrs. Weasley playing in his head. They'd not even buried them yet.

"Harry," called Hagrid above the noise, "move now."

Harry swallowed the rage bubbling beneath him and he too, rushed through the slowly re-closing gates, Lupin and DeSousa backing in last.

A spell shot well over their heads and for a second, Harry couldn't image what Dolohov had been aiming at. A deep grunt came from behind him and he knew. Dolohov had fired at Hagrid. Well, that was stupid, because Hagrid was part giant and it would take more than one stupid spell to hurt him.

Harry turned expecting to see Hagrid looking no worse for wear, but what was left of Harry's bruised and battered heart stopped as he watched Hagrid fall to the ground. He heard Fang howl and McGonagall and Hermione scream.

The next thing he knew, an arrow rang out and passed through the small opening in the gates. It buried itself deep in Dolohov's chest. Firenze was standing just behind the spot from which Hagrid had just fallen.

If the Death Eater ever felt the pain of it, they'd never know. A second spell whizzed by Harry's head and Dolohov dropped dead before the center of the gates just as they finally sealed shut once more. Harry could hear Moody murmuring the rest of the incantations. He whipped around and found Bill standing behind him, his wand raised in an arm that was as straight and steady as a lead pipe. His eyes were fierce and Harry knew without a doubt that he, Ron and Ginny had heard Malfoy and Dolohov's taunts about their mother and brother's last minutes alive.

Bill nodded curtly at Harry, lowered his wand, and the two of them rushed to Hagrid's side, Harry kneeling down.

"It looks pretty bad, Harry," said Hermione, her tears dropping on Hagrid's forehead as she cradled his head in her lap.

Harry held one of Hagrid's massive hands in both his own, but Hagrid did not stir.

"Let's get him to Poppy," said McGonagall and four of the Order pulled their wands and lifted Hagrid gently in the air and up the grounds to the castle. "I'll keep you updated, Potter."

Harry wanted to go with him, but he knew he couldn't do so just yet. Hermione, Ron and Ginny went for him.

"A great many have rallied behind you this evening, Harry Potter," said Firenze.

He looked around and realized there were more new faces than he'd first thought. Where had they all come from? Many of them were watching him.

Jillian came to his side and said, "Kingsley and Bill arranged for additional support to arrive by Portkey in McGonagall's office. It seems Hogsmeade was hit pretty hard. We've gotten word to the Ministry and they are coming to investigate. I fear there were a number of losses. Your minister will be arriving this evening."

Harry was beginning to feel numb.

Lupin, Kingsley and Magorian joined them.

"We need to realign security on the grounds," said Lupin. "Magorian has offered his continued support."

"We know every inch of this land. Do not worry. There will be no unanswered surprises this night," promised Magorian. "Firenze, come with me."

Harry watched as the two centaurs trotted off together, taking a second to be glad that at least one family seemed to be mending.

"Kingsley, can you and DeSousa start working out a schedule for the others?" asked Lupin.

"Of course," he said.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Harry.

"We want you to go inside, get cleaned up and get some rest," said Jillian. "You are covered in blood and goodness knows what else."

"No way," said Harry, shaking his head.

"Harry," said Lupin, "at least go and get cleaned up. You can come back down once we've got everything situated out here. We do still need to meet. In the meantime, I know you want to check on Hagrid and your friends will no doubt be upstairs waiting for you."

Too weary to argue, Harry did as they suggested.

His first stop had been the hospital wing, but he couldn't get near Hagrid. Madame Pomfrey was attending to him. McGonagall had already sent Hermione, Ron and Ginny back upstairs to Gryffindor Tower and told Harry he should do the same.

From there, he'd gone straight to the Prefect's bathroom, locking the door behind him. He stood beneath a powerful spray, letting the scorching hot water wash away all the dirt and blood. The water pressure massaged his aching body, but nothing could wash away his memories and thoughts.

Harry turned off the water and wrapped one of the big, soft towels around his waist. He used another one to run through his wet hair. He couldn't put those same clothes on again. They weren't fit for anything but an incinerator; and Harry waved them away. He summoned clothes and shoes from his dormitory, not paying the least bit of attention to what he was putting on.

He walked into the common room and found it packed with students. Harry didn't know why he was so surprised. There was no way anyone would sleep tonight. All conversation stopped as he entered.

"Upstairs, everyone," called Ron. "Now."

Harry said a heart felt thank you to each Gryffindor member of the D.A. as they passed him on their way to the staircases. Soon, only he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny remained.

They waited until they heard doors closing, and Ron and Hermione went upstairs and sealed each door.

"What happened out there?" asked Hermione. "I mean at the beginning. We obviously saw the rest."

Harry told them about running from Hagrid's cabin and seeing the giants in the distance as they started attacking the gates. He told them about the idea for the flaming arrows and about the centaurs arriving to help.

"That would explain some of what we saw from the windows. We couldn't see the gates from where we were, but we kept seeing what looked like shooting stars or flaming meteors. We didn't know what they were," said Ron.

"So, what happened in here?" asked Harry and it was Ginny who started filling him in.

"Bill had gone with Kingsley and Lupin to wait for reinforcements to show up. It wasn't long after that we heard this really loud noise, almost like rolling thunder. But it came again, and you could feel some of the windows rattle."

"One of the Order must have sent some sort of signal, because a few moments later, Kingsley and DeSousa were out the front door. Lupin ran out next, but yelled for Bill to handle the Portkey transports," added Hermione. "People kept running out, but no one was running back in."

"At first, we didn't think the castle was close to being overrun or anything, but we didn't know how long we should wait," said Ron. "Finally, we decided to follow part of the evacuation plan. The D.A. started gathering up the younger students and we had Fred and George take them into the tunnels."

"Fred said he was about to open the door on the other end, when something told him not to," added Ginny, "even though he knew it meant fitting fewer students in the tunnel."

"McGonagall saw us when we were headed back down to find Bill and we told her what we'd done," explained Hermione. "She summoned Dobby and asked him to gather the other house-elves and get to the third floor corridor."

"I'd forgotten house-elves could Apparate nearly anywhere," commented Harry.

"We all had," said Hermione, "except McGonagall. She directed them to start getting the youngest students back to their families. Even Kreacher helped. Of course, he'd only take the Slytherins, but still…"

Too much had happened for Harry to do anything but raise a brow at the news of Kreacher's selective assistance.

"Well, I'm glad Fred followed his gut," he said. "I know Moody put a number of protective spells on Honeydukes, but I hear the Death Eaters nearly took over all of Hogsmeade tonight. What did you do with the other students?"

"We rounded up as many as we could find and hid them in the Room of Requirement," answered Ron.

"Smart idea," said Harry.

"Well, if it turned out we absolutely needed to evacuate, at least a good number of them were in one spot," replied Ron. "Anyway, Bill caught up to us again and we all followed him and McGonagall outdoors. You know everything else."

"And you remembered the Dungbombs?" asked Harry to Hermione.

"Yes," she said. "Ronan heard me telling Tonks about them and he said he and the other centaurs could help.

"Any word on Hagrid?" asked Harry. "I stopped by the hospital wing first, but McGonagall practically kicked me out. Have you heard anything else?"

"No change," said Hermione sadly. "I went down again and McGonagall said I'd just missed you. She told me it seemed that Dolohov's curse hit Hagrid in the face. It's the most vulnerable part of him, just like it would be for any of us – lots of softer tissue and bone structure… Are you going back down again?"

"Yeah, I am," he said. "The others can find me there when they're ready."

"Do you want us to come with you?" asked Ron.

"No, you three try and get some sleep," he said. "I don't know how long I'll be, but I'll wake you if anything changes."

The portrait hole had barely sealed behind him when McGonagall's silvery white cat appeared and Harry had to head to her office.

This was a much smaller meeting than he was expecting, but then realized why. Moody, Lupin, Aberforth and McGonagall were standing around a seated Narcissa and Draco Malfoy.

"We need to figure out what to do with these two," said Moody, by way of greeting. "I'm leaning towards prison myself, but I'm having trouble convincing more than one of them to vote my way. Care to wager in, Potter?"

"I thought we might be able to use Aberforth's services," said Lupin calmly. "However, he is a little less than enthusiastic to assist."

"It's what Albus would have wanted," said McGonagall, gesturing at the portrait.

It was empty. Harry found that strangest of all. Where else would Dumbledore be when all of the Order was here at Hogwarts?

"Well, I'm not as forgiving as my brother was," said Aberforth. "And Minerva, you might want to try another line of argument, seeing as it's what got them all ambushed outside not more than an hour ago. You should have never opened the bloody gates."

McGonagall colored, but she bit back her retort.

"We'd like your thoughts, Harry," said Lupin.

Harry stared at them. Why in the world would they want his input on the Malfoys? If it weren't so unbelievable, it might have been funny. Harry had despised Draco and his parents for as long as he could remember, and he would have given away all his fortune to have been asked this question nearly a year ago.

But things had changed since that day atop the Astronomy Tower. True, Draco was responsible for getting the Death Eaters inside the castle; but he had been unwilling and unable to kill Professor Dumbledore.

Harry also now had the answer to one of the questions that had plagued him since Christmas Eve. He had no doubt Draco had indeed gambled that Blaise would somehow leak that message to him. It really had been a warning.

And as Harry looked at Draco now, he felt no hatred, only pity. Draco had spent his whole life believing in and worshipping a way of life that had nearly destroyed him. And maybe it had. After all, he'd had to choose between his mother and father; and done something Harry couldn't imagine ever having to do.

Draco met Harry's gaze and did not look away. His eyes were no longer dead looking. But the malice that had always peered from behind them was gone. He knew his fate rested in Harry's hands and he seemed resigned to whatever that might be.

"Do it," said Harry simply to Aberforth.

Aberforth gave a grunt and ushered the Malfoys from their seats. "Come with me, now," he said.

As Draco was about to leave, he looked back over his shoulder at Harry and their eyes locked. Harry had one more thing to say.

"Draco," he said slowly. "You'd better make sure I never regret this."

The door closed behind them and Harry was alone with the others.

McGonagall finally lost it when Harry told her he was planning to lure Voldemort out in the open.

"Professor," he said, "this fight has been coming for seventeen years. It won't wait any longer. And I refuse to wait around for him to try and ambush us again, or see anyone else I care about killed in an attempt to get at me. It's way too dangerous; surely you see that. If I stay here they will come again, and I'm willing to bet he will be with them the next time. You've got hundreds of other students who need your protection. You cannot shield me any longer. I did all that Dumbledore asked me to. It's time."

He was right and she hated it.

"Do you know where you want to draw this battle line, Potter?" asked Moody.

"Yeah, I do," he said, and they were shocked when he told them.

"I figure I can use all the help I can get," he said, and they didn't ask what he meant by that.

"When would you like to start?" asked Lupin.

Harry looked at his watch and saw that it was only a little after eleven. He'd have sworn it was much later.

"How's four-thirty?" he asked. "Does that give you enough time to get everyone ready?"

"Don't worry," said Moody. "We'll be ready. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, something very important," he said. "If you see Nagini, take her out."

"His snake?" asked Lupin, his expression confused.

"Yes," said Harry with complete seriousness. "Nothing else will matter until that snake is destroyed. If it's a choice between getting to me or destroying her, you need to kill her."

Harry knew they wanted to ask why, but he also knew they wouldn't do so.

"Only then can Voldemort be touched," he said, giving them a hint of the answers they wanted. "If I'm down and someone else can get to him, it still has to be after Nagini is destroyed."

They all looked ill at Harry's words, but made no comments.

"Got it," said Moody. "We'll spread the word to the Order."

"Okay," he said. "What's next?"

"Nothing," said Lupin. "You go back to Gryffindor Tower and get some sleep. And do not argue with me. You are going to need your strength. We all are. Someone will wake you when it is time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had stopped off at the hospital wing to check in on Hagrid. Madam Pomfrey told him he had not awakened; and that his injuries were very serious. They'd have to see how he did through the night. She let Harry spend a few minutes beside him, then ushered him out of the wing. She promised to send word if anything changed.

And now, Harry was lying fully clothed on the sofa in the common room. Ron and Hermione were each asleep in two of the oversized, squishy chairs. Harry made himself close his eyes and breathe in slowly, but he kept floating back to consciousness. It was hard to sleep when you sensed you were about to step off the edge of an abyss. He peered at his watch in the darkened room and squinted until he could make out the small hands. It was nearly one o'clock.

Then he heard soft footsteps on the staircase and knew they belonged to Ginny. Harry shifted against the back of the sofa, creating a small space for her to claim beside him. She fit easily against him, her face resting on the left side of his chest. Her hand found his and not a single word passed between them. Ginny did finally give in to the need to sleep, but not Harry. When he finally closed his eyes, it was only so he could let his mind's eye show him the dreams in his heart. Time seemed to rush by too quickly.

At four o'clock, Harry's opened his eyes when he sensed somebody else in the room. He found Bill Weasley standing over him. To Harry's relief, Bill did not seem particularly bothered by the site of his sister asleep next to Harry. He pointed at Ron and Hermione, and went to silently nudge each of them.

They woke up and saw Harry trying to extricate himself from Ginny without waking her.

Bill pulled his wand and Ginny's sleeping form rose gently in the air. Harry slid up and over the back of the sofa, as Bill placed her back down again. Harry bent over and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

They'd all slept in their clothes, not sure if or when something else might happen.

They were following Bill back out the portrait hole in a matter of minutes, having summoned their traveling cloaks, and of course, Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

"Lupin sent me to wake you, he said. "All set?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Where are we going?" asked Hermione.

Harry looked at her and Ron and actually considered Stunning them if it meant it would keep them safe.

"Don't even think about it," said Ron, looking straight at Harry. "We told you we were going with you and we meant it. So, where exactly is that?"

Harry remembered Sirius's words to him about the strength of their friendship and knew he couldn't do this without them.

He smiled softly and said, "Bill can fill you in. I want to see Hagrid again before we leave. I'll meet you in the Great Hall."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had been sitting quietly by Hagrid's bedside, recalling some of the moments he'd spent with this gentle giant of a man. He'd not been there more than five minutes when Hagrid finally moaned softly and tried opening his beady, black and kind eyes.

"Hagrid," said Harry. "Can you hear me?"

"Hagrid?" tried Harry again.

"Yeh alright then, Harry?" asked Hagrid in a deep whisper.

"Would you stop worrying about me for once?" cheeked Harry. "You're the one in the hospital."

"It's been me job to worry about yeh," he said. "Has been since I pulled yeh from that ruined house, yeh know."

"I'm a big boy, now," said Harry.

"I know," said Hagrid. "Looks like yeh got trained up real good, too. I saw yeh out there. Yer dad and Sirius couldn't have done any better."

Hagrid coughed several times and blood poured from the corners of his mouth. Harry looked around and Madam Pomfrey came running over. She took a few moments examining Hagrid and then cleaned his mouth and bathed his face with a cool cloth.

She caught Harry's gaze and shook her head discreetly before leaving him alone with Hagrid. Harry closed his eyes and tried to still the thing inside him that was screaming its head off.

He touched Hagrid's shoulder, not knowing how he managed to control the shaking in his hand.

Hagrid opened his eyes again and looked directly at Harry.

"I want yeh, Ron and Hermione to keep lookin' after each other," he said, with increasing difficulty.

Harry could not form a single word. He trailed his hand down Hagrid's massive arm and placed it in his open palm. Hagrid squeezed Harry's hand gently and Harry perched on the edge of the hospital bed and waited.

Hagrid's grip lessened and the light slowly left his eyes as he slipped quietly away, a small smile on his lips. Harry got slowly from the bed, shut Hagrid's eyes and pulled the sheet up and over his head. Madam Pomfrey walked beside him and placed her hand against her own heart, tears spilling down her face. Harry had lost the first friend he'd ever had; but he didn't have another tear left to shed. His eyes burned and his heart thudded against his ribcage as he walked quietly from the hospital wing.

He headed straight downstairs to the Great Hall, nearly running into McGonagall as he did so.

"I was just coming to find you. The others are ready for you – what's the matter?" she asked, looking at Harry's expression.

"Hagrid's gone," he said, and watched as his words sunk in and her own face turned into a mask of grief.

He did not wait for any words or gestures of comfort. He walked around her and headed into the Great Hall.

There was lots of talk among the house tables now occupied by grown witches and wizards. Scrimgeour was among them, and so were the D.A. and a number of other seventh-year students. Ginny was there. She must have awakened as soon as they left and alerted the others. Neville and Luna were on either side of her, George and Fred sitting across from then. Mr. Weasley was sitting next to Bill and Charlie. Harry had thought he'd been asleep at the other end of the hospital wing. All conversation seemed to come to a halt as Harry made his way to the top of the room. People were watching him, including those who knew him best.

If he'd walked past a mirror, he might have been startled by his own reflection. He was dressed from head to toe in black: shoes, jeans, and a slightly billowing shirt that he'd gotten from Tonks at Christmas. His shoulders, normally hidden beneath his robes, had obviously broadened from his training with DeSousa. His hair had grown out some and blew back slightly from his face as he strode purposely through the hall. But it was Harry's face and eyes that now stood out in striking contract against so much darkness. His jaw line was hardened and shadowed, and there wasn't a single trace of the boy most of them had watched over these seven years. Harry's bright green eyes seemed to have darkened several shades and one eyebrow was angrily arched higher than the other. Only his round glasses softened the look upon his face. If he'd had an eye patch instead of glasses, he'd have looked like a very dangerous pirate.

McGonagall came back in and shut the doors. She stood at the back of the room, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. The others figured out what was wrong and turned towards Harry; but he did not want to have this conversation. Just like Ginny, he found his current irate state far more useful to the business at hand.

"I'm ready," he said flatly to Lupin and Moody as he went to stand beside Ron and Hermione, both of whom stood shocked as they realized Hagrid was gone, too.

"For those of you who have been asleep the last decade or so," said Moody, "we've been joined by Mr. Potter."

Harry looked out at the table of faces and nodded. He'd certainly not planned on saying anything to those assembled. He'd always hated being the center of attention and although he wasn't necessarily shy, he certainly never went looking for opportunities to address the masses. But as he really looked at the faces in the room, the right words found their way to him and he stepped slightly forward and cleared his throat.

"I was too young to remember when the first war nearly destroyed everything, but I have felt its effects every single day of my life. But that story is not mine, alone. There are so many of you whose families and lives have been torn apart by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. But I am still here. And you are still here. It's never been about The-Boy-Who-Lived. It's been about a way of life that has survived."

Ginny was watching him, a quiet smile on her lips and in her eyes. Hermione squeezed his hand and Ron caught his eye.

"I really don't know what will happen today. I only hope that when it's over, a better future is left for those of us who are fortunate enough to still be a part of it."

The room rang with applause. Harry was not expecting it and was startled when a strong hand grabbed his arm, and he looked up into Lupin's face.

"Well said, Harry."

"You have your orders," called DeSousa over the noise of those assembled, "Be ready to move when signaled."

"Come along, you three," said Jillian. "You're with me, Kingsley, Tonks and Andre."

And they walked from the room together to stage the biggest battle of their lives.


	26. Chapter 26: Wages of War

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: WAGES OF WAR

Six hippogriffs were harnessed in the giant pen behind Hagrid's cabin. At the very front stood Buckbeak, waiting for Harry. Harry bowed in greeting and Buckbeak did the same. Jillian and Hermione cast Disillusionment Charms on everyone. Harry was cloaked and astride Buckbeak in moments. Hermione chose to ride with Ron. She absolutely hated flying, but she was determined to go with them. The ground soon grew further and further away, and the rush of wind against their faces made all their eyes water.

They passed the mountains and kept going, and just as Flitwick had described, the panorama opened up to a startling expanse of land, the nearest village separated by a long, winding river.

What Harry had not known before was that if they followed that river path until its end, they would have wound up at a little stream that ran through the very place he visited with Lupin and the others all those months ago, Godric's Hollow.

Godric Gryffindor, the man, had chosen to settle-- for a short time before joining his friends to start Hogwarts-- not very far from where Godric Gryffindor, the boy, had been raised.

Harry dismounted as soon as Buckbeak's hind legs touched the ground. He felt like a lighting rod. His skin stung with energy, anxiety and anticipation. He'd thought his physical reaction to Godric's Hollow had been driven by his emotions. And on some level, it had been. But it was more than that. He felt connected to it, and not just because it had been his home with his parents. At the time, he'd not even thought about its possible connection to Gryffindor, and he'd had no clue about its significance to Albus Dumbledore; yet his subconscious had sensed it. Everything inside him told him this was where he needed to be.

"The others should be arriving shortly, Harry," said DeSousa, looking towards Buckbeak's broad back, where he thought Harry still sat.

"I'm already down, Andre," said Harry, and listened as the others dismounted.

"Okay, Buckbeak," he whispered. "Take your friends up in the mountains and wait for us. Stay close. If things go badly, I'm counting on you to get as many of them out of here as possible. All right?"

The hippogriff bowed once more, let out a cry and took off. The others followed behind him.

"Where's everyone else?" asked Hermione.

"They're coming with Moody," said Kingsley. "I'm sure he's yelling out last minute orders back at the school."

"A good number of Aurors from abroad showed up last night when we called for reinforcements," added Jillian. "Kipling will be commanding them, with help from Arthur and Charlie."

"Don't forget, the centaurs are still guarding the grounds," piped in Tonks. "Word spread quickly about the attacks at Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. The Ministry got a lot of requests from others who wanted to help. They're still arriving by Floo as we speak."

"And the D.A. is standing guard, as well," said DeSousa. "You did an amazing job with them, Harry."

"Good luck getting him to believe it," said Ron.

"They did all the work," said Harry. "I only showed them how. I just hope it's enough and that I haven't made things worse for them by splitting us up."

"It was enough last night. Don't doubt yourself now," urged Kingsley. "We got hit hard; but so did their forces. You're putting yourself front and center, and You-Know-Who will come wherever you are. Even he can't be in two places at one time."

"I wish Remus and the others would hurry up and get here," said Tonks. "I don't like standing out in the open like this."

Harry knew she'd begun walking around when small stones suddenly turned into large boulders and rock formations. She was creating makeshift positions of cover for them.

And as if they heard her, small gusts of wind blew about and Harry heard people Apparating and landing, even though he couldn't immediately see them. The others were arriving Disillusioned, as well.

Everyone had drawn their wands until they heard Moody's voice taking roll call on the teams landing.

"All right, Potter, are you sure you want to do this?" asked Moody.

"Yes, we need to have them contained. I know once the Six-Point Anti-Disapparation Jinx is cast, we'll be unable to get out of here quickly. If any of you are uncomfortable with this, now's the time to duck out. I'll completely understand," said Harry, and he meant it, knowing he'd pretty much just asked them to agree to give up their fastest means of retreat and escape.

At first, no one said a word and Harry didn't hear anyone Disapparating. What he did begin to hear were wand taps and whispered spells as the others began reversing their Disillusionment Charms. Much of the Order was standing with him, along with more Ministry Aurors, including Scrimgeour himself. And the last to reveal themselves were Neville and Seamus.

Lupin was looking towards the spot from which Harry had spoken. Harry reversed his own Disillusionment Charm and dropped the hood on his Cloak, looking at everyone assembled in the middle of nowhere.

"Seamus? Neville?" said Harry.

"McGonagall already tried to talk us out of it, Harry," said Seamus. "But we're of age, so the decision was ours."

"Don't start, Harry," added Neville "Fred and George know every inch of the castle, and they're pretty ruthless when they're not joking around. The D.A. couldn't be in better hands. And I needed to be here."

Neville didn't have to explain any further. Harry knew this was as personal for Neville as it was for him.

"I was only going to ask what took you so long," said Harry, managing a hint of humor when he was actually feeling sick to his stomach.

"Hermione," said Lupin, taking the focus off the trio's other friends, "we're counting on you to cast half of the Six-Point Jinx on this side. Harry will take care of the points behind the Death Eaters -- the last after the guest of honor shows up. You'll need to get to Jillian and shadow her. She'll provide cover for you and get you to the perimeter points."

"I can do that," said Hermione.

"I do not doubt it," said Lupin with an approving nod.

Hermione rushed to Harry and gave him a hearty hug.

"You're a great wizard, Harry, you know," she whispered, her eyes bright and tear filled, repeating something she'd once said to him just before he found himself face-to-face with Voldemort for the first time.

Harry winked at her.

"Ready, mate?" asked Ron, as he joined them, clasping Harry about the shoulders.

"As I'll ever be," said Harry, looking intently at the friend who was a brother to him in every way that counted.

"Potter, keep that Cloak on as long as possible," said Moody. "You-Know-Who won't likely move in until it looks like his Death Eaters are in trouble or he spots you. I prefer it to be the first one."

"Wait," called DeSousa and he came to Harry's side. "Here, take this one. You've earned it."

It was one of the Ginunting swords. Harry opened the folds of his Cloak and accepted it, clipping the sheathed sword to his belt.

"Thanks, Andre," he said and lifted his hood once more. "Okay, Jillian, now."

Jillian raised her wand and pointed it skyward. Harry managed a real smile as he watched the image take shape in the predawn sky. It was the outline of a large phoenix, red and gold and glowing bright and brilliantly against the darkness.

They did not have to wait very long. That phoenix image was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Voldemort's Death Eaters began arriving in dark swirls of wind, just as they'd done three years ago on the night the Dark Lord returned. And once more, they'd forgone hiding behind masks.

"_Morsmordre,"_ bellowed Macnair, one of the first to appear.

The Dark Mark formed in the sky above and the two seemed to be battling for dominance above, while the battle below began.

Bellatrix was front and center, sending curse after curse directly at Tonks.

"What's the matter, darling niece?" she challenged. "Are your parlor tricks not up to snuff?"

Tonks's answer came in the form of a charging Erumpent, which she transfigured from a dark gray stone lying before her. Bellatrix barely got out of the way, and it took four Death Eaters to stop the beast, but not before it had impaled Crabbe Sr. as easily as a marshmallow on a stick.

Bill, Scrimgeour and DeSousa took full advantage of the temporary distraction and brought down Avery and another Death Eater.

Bellatrix was furious. Harry knew what she was about to do. From beneath his Cloak he threw a Shield Charm in front of Tonks. But Moody had seen it too, and he dove at Tonks from the other side, crossing in front of Harry's shield. At first, Harry thought Bellatrix's spell had passed by him, but it had not. Moody hit the ground and he did not get up again.

"You are running out of leaders for your little club, aren't you?" cackled Bellatrix.

The Order and Aurors kept fighting, even though every one of them wanted to weep. Harry tucked his pain away in the same spot as his grief for Hagrid and the others and pushed on.

There were more Death Eaters than expected. No wonder Voldemort had been so willing to gamble on last night's losses. Harry needed to increase their odds. He walked hidden among them and cast spells and curses at the Death Eaters. Harry took a small amount of pleasure in watching several of them fall as a result of some of Snape's handiwork. Grudgingly, he admitted once more that the Half Blood Prince had been nobody's fool.

"Get behind us," said Lupin, when he realized it was not his spell alone that cut down Macnair.

"I can't stand back there and do nothing," whispered Harry, and he left before Lupin could say anything else.

But Harry realized he could stand behind the Death Eaters and do something. As quickly as possible, he moved on the outside of the battle and made his way behind the Death Eaters.

With a few well-timed curses, he picked off a good number of the newer Death Eaters, trying to time his spells with those from the Order so that it didn't appear that they were being attacked from the rear.

Harry looked across in time to see Greyback lunge at Ron. Ron fell back but rolled out of the way, and the green light from Bill's wand tracked the werewolf like a laser. His dead body fell inches away from Ron.

Two Aurors were killed by a combination of spells and Scrimgeour let out a roar as he aimed straight for one of Death Eaters who'd just killed his men.

Neville and Seamus were near Jillian, helping her provide cover for Hermione, who was silently casting the Anti-Disapparation Jinx on the designated perimeter points. To anyone else, it might have looked like they were trying to retreat, but Harry knew they were moving their opponents in a cleverly concealed half circle.

Harry needed to do the same on this side before it became too late. He picked two points behind the Death Eaters and cast the same jinx as Hermione. Then he moved back nearer the center of the battle. This would be where he closed the Six-Point Jinx once Voldemort showed up. He couldn't stray too far from this spot until then.

From his vantage point, he saw about ten Order and Auror fighters down, and there was no doubt that at least four of them would not be getting up again. Lupin would definitely disapprove, but he decided to take a few risks. Because even though Death Eater bodies littered the ground, there were still too many of them standing. Harry knew Voldemort would arrive with more and he wanted to give them all a fighting chance.

He began attacking from where he stood. He stunned Rabastan Lestrange unconscious, body-bound one unknown Death Eater and disarmed a second one before anyone noticed the direction from which the spells and curses emitted. Harry had just transformed Nott into a Crup when a small alarm went off in his head.

He moved about a foot to the left, and Rodolphus Lestrange's curse came within inches from where he'd been standing.

"I believe the Potter brat is here!" shouted Rodolphus as he dodged a curse from Scrimgeour and fired back, striking the Minister in the chest.

It looked like a stunning spell, and although he was out of the fight, Scrimgeour seemed to still be breathing. Rodolphus made to touch the tip of his wand to the Dark Mark tattooed on his left arm, no doubt ready to summon Voldemort to the bloodbath.

But Kingsley moved fluidly past the Minister's fallen body and a jet of green light caught Rodolphus in the throat. The Death Eater dropped face down, but not before he'd sent his summons to his master. Bellatrix let out a cry like a warrior. Kingsley had just killed her husband. A luminous arc of blue light flared from her wand and hit the ground in front of them.

"Get back," yelled Jillian, and everyone scrambled back, trying to dodge spells and curses.

The place along where most of them had just stood erupted into a wall of electrified blue flames, and it started moving rapidly towards the others as they hurried back.

Harry cast the strongest Freezing Charm he could think of; and although it stopped moving forward, the wall of flames continued to dance.

It looked like they'd all gotten clear when Seamus lost his footing and stumbled back precariously close to the flames. Tonks was the closest to him and saw him falter. She made a desperate grab for him with her free hand and caught his wrist, but she hadn't been centered when she reached for him and the force of his fall pulled her off balance with him. They all watched horrified as both Seamus and Tonks fell through the strange blue flames and out the other side. They looked unscathed, but neither ever moved again. The wall of flames vanished and the ground looked untouched.

Hermione let out a cry as Kingsley swore and Neville retched and lost whatever he'd last eaten. Harry saw Lupin's face transform. There was no full moon tonight, but he looked as if he could rip out Bellatrix's throat with his bare teeth. Ron and Hermione ran to stand on either side of him.

"Very nice, Bella," came the high, cruel voice that made the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand up. His scar stung for the first time in nearly two years, but no longer with the horrific pain that usually pulsed through it when Voldemort was near.

Voldemort had arrived and no one, not even his Death Eaters, had noticed. He had not arrived alone. Baldwin, Wormtail, and Snape were part of the extended entourage. And then Nagini slithered from beneath and behind Voldemort's robes.

Harry felt torn in half. He so wanted to murder Bellatrix where she stood, but he likely only had one chance to seal the Anti-Disapparation Jinx. He said the incantation silently, his wand shaking in his hand. Then as quietly as he could, he moved back among the Order, brushing Kingsley's shoulder as he did so.

"I smell cowardice in the air," said Voldemort. "You can't hide beneath that Cloak forever, Harry Potter. Perhaps you need some motivation."

Voldemort's wand emitted a long thin rope that snaked its way towards Hermione, but it was sliced in midair by a strike from Jillian's wand. Every Death Eater turned to look at her and Voldemort considered her for one long, uncomfortable moment.

"Perhaps I will let you live," he hissed at her. "Wherever did you come from?"

Jillian did not answer.

"No matter," said Voldemort. "I've no doubt I shall greatly enjoy persuading you to join me."

His Death Eaters laughed, all except Bellatrix. She was eying Jillian maliciously, but Jillian gave her a most dismissive glance, which only incensed Bellatrix more, her face flushed with anger.

"It's a pity we don't have time for a catfight," said Snape. "Perhaps later."

That was all Harry needed. It was one thing to see him standing there, but the minute he heard the voice he hated only second to Voldemort's, his vision blurred. Harry dropped his Cloak and stood facing the thing that had haunted and hunted him all his life.

"So nice of you to join us, Harry Potter," said Voldemort in mock sweetness, as Nagini hissed and coiled and uncoiled herself before him.

"I wish I could say the pleasure were all mine," replied Harry, "but I'd be lying."

His voice sounded strong and calm, and Harry thought it was the best bit of magic he'd managed because he was actually more frightened than he'd ever been in his entire life.

"You insolent little half-blood," screamed Rookwood, firing a spell at Harry.

Harry deflected it and Rookwood dropped to the ground. But he hadn't been killed by anything Harry had done. A jet of green light had struck him and the curse had come from the Death Eater beside him, Baldwin.

"Our Lord has demanded that he be the only one to touch Potter," sneered Baldwin. "I suggest the rest of us remember why we are here."

The other Death Eaters were stunned, but Voldemort looked particularly pleased.

"Perhaps you are as worthy as I first thought, Baldwin," said Voldemort. "I'm glad someone has been listening to me."

"I hope to prove myself more than worthy, Master," said Baldwin and his gold eyes briefly raked across Harry's.

He'd gotten rid of one more Death Eater, and Harry was amazed that he'd done so without giving himself away.

Another flash of wand light passed in their midst, and this one was headed for Lupin. He was still reeling from losing Tonks and his reflexes were slowed. Ron pulled him down just in time and Hermione cast the Finger-Removing Jinx at the Death Eater who'd fired at them. He wouldn't be causing any more damage with a wand.

"Move," Harry yelled when he saw Voldemort's eyes flash. A funnel of wind came out of nowhere and they were blinded by swirling dirt and debris, unable to see where they were aiming their spells and curses, and hoping that they'd somehow managed to strike any of the Death Eaters.

When the wind died down, Baldwin was standing just behind Neville, his wand held threateningly at his throat. Neville was straining against his iron grip and turning red. The other Death Eaters were grinning.

"Well, Potter," said Voldemort, "who's it going to be? You or Longbottom?"

"Neither," yelled Baldwin as he pushed Neville to the ground and fired the Killing Curse at the Death Eater called Yaxley.

He immediately transformed himself to Regulus Black and Voldemort's eyes went blood red and Bellatrix began screeching. Snape's black eyes narrowed and the others appeared as shocked as the Order had been months ago.

"You are supposed to be dead," said Voldemort in a lethal whisper.

"So are you, Master," said Regulus.

"Where is your allegiance?" demanded Bellatrix.

"Where I knew it should have been long ago," said Regulus. "With those who stood alongside my brother. You remember him, don't you, cousin? I hear it was you who murdered him."

"Well, you'll be reunited with him shortly, Regulus," spat Bellatrix.

Pure bedlam ensued as everything and everyone moved quickly as the air crackled with the sounds of men and women dueling for their lives. However, Harry heard something else that no others could. He heard Voldemort speaking to Nagini. The giant snake was on the move and headed directly towards him. But at the last second it veered it's long body and struck to the right, directly at Regulus.

Lupin had his wits about him once more and grabbed Regulus by the back of his robes, trying to yank him out of the way. He'd nearly gotten him clear when the snake struck, its fangs piercing Regulus's lower left calf. He yelled in pain and DeSousa dove beside them to help stave off any more wand strikes.

Jillian's eyes gleamed dangerously and she was in Harry's head.

"_Do it now,"_ she pressed, and Harry understood her intent.

She raised her wand at Snape, knowing he would block whatever spell she cast. But that was her plan. It gave Harry the seconds he needed to release the sword from its sheath. He gripped the handle and hurled it in an over-handed throw directly at Nagini.

Voldemort aimed to blast the sword in mid strike, but this time, it was Harry's own wand spell, aimed a second behind his, that deflected the Dark Lord's.

Snape had disarmed Jillian and knocked her back, but it didn't matter. She raiser her empty hand and a burst of pure silver light cut a path directly to Harry's spinning sword, infusing it the moment it embedded itself in Nagini. The snake hissed violently and then exploded into hundreds of bloody pieces.

DeSousa summoned Jillian's wand back to her, looking at her as if he'd never seen her before. But everyone soon forgot about Jillian.

Voldemort's screams were like daggers being driven through everyone's eardrums.

"NO! NO!" he howled, over and over again, looking as if he were somehow in physical pain.

His Death Eaters were too stunned to move and most of them were watching Voldemort with fear and trepidation in their eyes.

Snape however, looked mildly curious as his black eyes roamed from Voldemort to Harry and to Jillian.

Harry and Jillian stepped back slowly, closing the distance between themselves and the others. Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw Hermione had ripped strips from Regulus's robes and was trying to tie off the flow of venom from the snakebite.

Kingsley, DeSousa and Lupin moved to stand alongside Harry and Jillian, with the others reigned in behind and around them.

When Voldemort looked up, his eyes glowed through the slowly retreating darkness. He turned his face skyward and his slit of a mouth twisted into a hideous half grin.

Harry felt it before he saw anything. The early spring air suddenly turned oddly cold and Harry could see his breath escaping from his nose.

Dementors were descending upon them. There seemed to be no end to them. And then the Death Eaters resumed their attack. Silver vapor and Patronuses were mixing with spells and curses. It was too much. They lost another Auror and two other Order members whom Harry had never known by name.

"Harry," yelled Ron, "the others can't stop fighting the Death Eaters, and our Patronuses are weakening."

There wasn't a single happy thought running through Harry's head as he watched this battle unfolding around him. His friends were trapped here, and bodies were everywhere. Could he call for Buckbeak and the other hippogriffs?

Lupin and Kingsley moved in front of Harry, shielding him as best they could.

"Harry," called Lupin over his shoulder, "I know you can do this. You have to."

Harry fought to push back every bit of fear and doubt that was stabbing at his very soul. He brought an image of his mother and father to the forefront of his mind and raised his wand and his voice.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" he bellowed, and Prongs sprung from his wand tip, bigger and brighter than Harry had ever seen him. The Patronus inclined its head at Harry and took off on the air, scattering the dementors until they all retreated. Then the silver stag did something completely unexpected, and charged at the Death Eaters.

There really was nothing the Patronus could do to them, but Pettigrew seemed to have forgotten that and tripped over his feet and robes as he tried to back out of the path of the stag. It loomed large and eerily over the fallen Death Eater, its wide silver eyes unblinking. Pettigrew cowered beneath its gaze until the stag slowly faded into nothingness.

"You fool," yelled Bellatrix. "You are a pathetic waste of Wizarding blood."

Her next spell bound Lupin about the ankles and pulled him from his feet. She had a clear shot at Harry and took it, sending a jet of red light at him. Harry parried out of its path and sent his own curse back at her, which she barely managed to dodge.

"Stop!" ordered Voldemort, but Bellatrix was beyond reason. She aimed once more at Harry, but Pettigrew had gotten to his feet and plowed into her side, the two of them becoming a tangle of limbs. No one thought Pettigrew a match for Bellatrix, but his silver hand closed about her throat and she trashed beneath him, unable to breathe or loosen his grip.

"Enough," hissed Voldemort and his Killing Curse hit Pettigrew squarely in the back. He fell over dead and Bellatrix got slowly to her feet, clutching at her badly bruised neck.

Snape's dark eyes flashed once more and the other Death Eaters looked bewildered; but Voldemort looked absolutely predatory.

"Do you wish to join him, Bella?" asked Voldemort in a deadly whisper.

"No, My Lord," said Bellatrix, her face colored and her eyes rimmed with tears. "Forgive me, Master."

Kingsley had freed Lupin almost instantaneously, and they were all reigned in around Harry once more. Harry knew it was now or never.

"You look upset, Bellatrix," Harry said loudly. "I guess I would be too if I realized my boss cared more about his pet snake than he did about me or my so called friends. You didn't hear him screaming his bloody head off when Wormtail nearly strangled you, but he practically wept over Nagini. Don't you want to know why?"

Harry saw something flicker behind Voldemort's red eyes, something he'd rarely seen before and it spurred him on.

"He figured it out, Voldemort," said Harry and the other Death Eaters gasped to hear him address the Dark Lord as such. "Dumbledore knew what Nagini was to you, other than the only living thing you ever cared about, that is."

Voldemort's wand cut through the air like a knife and Harry knew he'd silently cast _"Sectemsempra,"_ directly at Bill. He and Jillian had worked out a counter-curse for that particular curse nearly a month ago. They'd even jokingly named it after Umbridge. Jillian stepped to Bill's side, casting a Shield Charm before them and Harry sent the counter-curse directly at Voldemort, who winced and hissed as his own wand slashed once across his palm.

Voldemort did not drop his wand though; quite the contrary, he gripped it more tightly, drops of blood staining the ground around him.

It was then that Harry noticed Voldemort had a different wand, and his anger spiked as he imagined what may have become of Mr. Ollivander.

Voldemort was watching Harry as if he were seeing someone else standing before him. So was Snape.

"So Dumbledore taught his favorite pup a few new tricks and gave him some useless information and now the great Harry Potter thinks he can battle me," said Voldemort.

"Dumbledore's information was far from useless," said Harry calmly. "Would you care to hear about it, Voldemort?"

"_I cannot wait to squeeze the last drop of life from your carcass," _hissed Voldemort in Parseltongue.

"_Yeah, well, I certainly can,"_ hissed Harry back at him in their private language, and several Death Eaters cringed at hearing him. Bellatrix's dark eyes were huge with rage and spurning.

"You know, it seems rude to leave everyone else out of this conversation," continued Harry. "Now where were we? Oh yes, Nagini."

"You do not know the half of which you profess to, Harry Potter," sneered Voldemort. "Neither did that Muggle loving buffoon who led you around by the nose."

"So we were wrong, then?" said Harry. "Nagini really wasn't a Horcrux? Pity, since I don't like hurting pets for no apparent reason."

Harry could hear sounds of disbelief from those around him, but he couldn't afford to glance back or around at any of them. He could however, see every single Death Eater, including Snape, watching Voldemort with wariness.

"Look at you," Voldemort said hatefully. "Standing there and believing you have the secrets of the universe at your disposal. No, dear boy, that would be me. I have defied and bent the laws of death more times than you could possibly imagine!"

"I can imagine six times," said Harry, his heart thudding so loudly he knew everyone could hear it.

But he saw what he wanted so desperately to see. He saw fear behind those red eyes and this time it wasn't fleeting.

"Dumbledore could not have possibly known …" he spat.

"He figured it out," said Harry, somehow keeping his voice calm and level.

"So what!" yelled Voldemort. "It would take a lifetime for you to find the others and I plan to make sure you life ends here. One or two of your precious Order will live to tell this tale. But they will never be able to stop me."

"They might be able to, especially since you no longer have these," said Harry, and he actually managed to grin into the face that had plagued his nightmare for years.

Harry raised his wand, and silently summoned the items he wanted, praying that he really could, just as he'd done with Gryffindor's sword. And one by one, each destroyed Horcrux, or what remained of it, appeared at his feet.

"_Accio Riddle's diary."_

"_Accio Gaunt's ring."_

"_Accio Hufflepuff's cup."_

"_Accio Slytherin's locket."_

"_Accio Ravenclaw's breast plate."_

"_Accio Nagini's head." _

If Voldemort could have murdered Harry with a look, he would have dropped dead that instant.

"Leave us!" commanded Voldemort to his Death Eaters.

"But Master," Bellatrix began sputtering, but she got no further as a cry rang out and she found Voldemort's wand pointed at her.

"_Crucio," _ he said vehemently and she dropped to the ground, screaming in pain.

Voldemort lifted the curse and she staggered to her feet.

"Leave us," he commanded again. "I will deal with Potter and his friends."

The first Death Eater tried to Disapparate and ended up falling flat on his face.

A second one tried and found he'd gone nowhere.

"Master," said another, "we cannot move from this place."

Voldemort whirled around at Harry and the others.

"Which of you sealed this place?" he yelled.

No one moved or said a word.

"Very well, you can all die."

And like Bellatrix, Voldemort aimed his wand at the ground. But this time, no wall of strange flame erupted. Instead, the ground on which Harry and the others stood blew apart and they were thrown back through the air like toys.

Harry felt as though he'd been plucked from the air, and he had been. Voldemort had him bound in a rope spell and he slammed Harry down against one of the boulders and his wand fell from his hand. He was airborne again, and this time he landed with a resounding thud against the broken ground and the ropes disappeared.

He could hear his own bones breaking. He didn't know which ones or how many. He only knew he was in more pain than he had ever felt in his life, and Harry had felt a lot of pain.

He managed to turn his head and he could see the others had landed near one another. They were bruised and bloody, but most of them were getting to their feet.

"You foolish, stupid boy," screamed Voldemort. "I shall make the first new Horcrux with your death. But I think you need to suffer a bit more, first. And if any of your friends dare make a move, I will finish you in an instant."

"_Crucio,"_ cried Voldemort again, his wand aimed at Harry's chest.

Harry thought he would lose consciousness and then Voldemort relented, his sick laughter carrying through the air and his Death Eaters joining in the merriment.

"_Get up, Potter,"_ came a voice in his head and for a long moment, Harry thought Voldemort was possessing him as he'd tried to do two years ago. "_Get up."_

But it wasn't Voldemort. Harry knew this voice all too well. It was Snape. Well, he might be dying, but he refused to go with that voice in his head.

"_Never again,"_ yelled Harry. "_Get out!"_ and he forced Snape from his head.

Had Harry been facing his former professor, he would have seen him stagger back, slightly stunned by the strength with which Harry expelled him from his mind. But Snape had been doing this a lot longer than anyone could have ever known.

"_I have the last message from Dumbledore, you annoying little flea,"_ came the voice from within Harry's head again. _"Look."_

And Harry could feel Snape opening a crack in his mind and pulling him through it by force. Harry was writhing on the ground, but no longer just from the pain of his injuries or the Cruciatus Curse. The montage of memories Snape cast at him was just as painful.

Harry saw his mother bent over a bubbling cauldron in Slughorn's class with her station partner, Severus Snape.

He watched them together in the library, pouring over large books.

He spied them exchanging knowing smiles after what had to be the completion of the written portion of the Potions O.W.L.

And then Harry witnessed the aftermath of the memory he'd seen in the Pensieve two years ago.

Snape was eavesdropping on a conversation between Lily and James in one of the school corridors. Well, it was more like a fight. She was furious at James for going after Snape and she had no problem blasting him and his idiotic friend for being so adolescent.

James stood there and took it. He made no more attempts to defend his and Sirius's behavior. When she'd finished venting, James had his say.

"I don't know what you see in him, Evans," he said. "But you're right, you're certainly old enough to choose your own friends. You may find me arrogant and insufferable and everything else you've called me in the last ten minutes, but you will never be able to say that Sirius or I are in league with anyone who supports the Dark Lord or his filthy beliefs. Can you say the same thing?"

He left Lily standing there and Snape emerged from behind the corner.

"Lily," began Snape, "I owe you an apology. I did not mean to take my anger out on you. And I appreciate you trying to help."

Lily laughed. It was a very sad and empty laugh.

"You only appreciate my help when we are alone or working on a project from Slughorn," she said. "Otherwise, you are as embarrassed by me as I should be by you."

"You do not mean that," retorted Snape. "Why are you listening to that idiot, Potter?"

"James is a lot of things, but an idiot is not one of them. I think that title belongs to me, alone."

"You are wrong, Lily," he said.

"I hope so," she replied. "I really do."

The next scene was of Snape surrounded by his Slytherin housemates, egging him on to torture a first or second-year Ravenclaw. Harry thought it had to be from their sixth-year.

"Go on Sev," said a sour faced Avery. "Convince the Mudblood he should go back home while he still can."

Snape flicked his wand and the little boy was pinned against the wall, his feet dangling a good six feet from the floor.

"Severus!"

Snape turned and faced Lily.

"Wow!" said another Slytherin. "Two Mudbloods in one night. What fun."

Lily disarmed the one who'd just spoken; and the others, including Snape, were blown against the far wall by spells cast from down the hall. James and Sirius had just shown up.

"All right there, Evans?" asked Sirius, as he stooped down to help the Ravenclaw back to his feet. The kid had come crashing down when Snape was stunned.

"Yes," she said, her green eyes burning as she looked at Snape with disgust.

James held his hand out to her and she took it, turning her back on Snape and walking away.

"_Crucio,"_ cried Voldemort again, watching Harry fighting for breath.

Another memory was from the night Harry and Hermione helped Sirius escape. Snape was in Professor Dumbledore's office.

"Your childhood rivalry may have very well set something very dangerous in motion tonight, Severus," said Dumbledore, his tone even, but his anger uncensored. "I thought you'd learned that lesson twelve years ago when Voldemort murdered the woman you claimed to care about."

Snape looked simultaneously ill and angry.

"I did not betray Lily," said Snape.

"No, you simply told Voldemort the prophecy that made him mark the Potters," replied Dumbledore.

"Had I known she was expecting a child, I would never have provided the Dark Lord that information," reasoned Snape, his nostrils flaring.

"I believe you, Severus, just as I believed you then," said Dumbledore. "But Sirius did not betray Lily and James, either. And I am ashamed I did not believe so years ago when someone else begged me to see the truth. However, we cannot undo the past, but you must stop living in it. You were so intent on punishing Sirius for adolescent games, you lost sight of the oath you made all those years ago. Harry nearly died tonight trying to save his godfather and that should never have happened. You swore on Lily's death that you would help me protect her son; and I'm sure you'll agree, you did a piss poor job of it this evening."

"I will not fail you again, Headmaster," said Snape.

"I am glad to hear it," said Dumbledore, his face losing its anger in an instant. "And Severus, it might help if you could refrain from seeing James every time you set eyes on Harry. I assure you, he is his own person."

"That's funny, because I find him an exact copy of his arrogant and self righteous father," said Snape.

"Then I suggest you try and look closer," said Dumbledore. "He really is an intriguing mix of both his parents. You know, they say the eyes are the gateway to the soul, and as you well know, Harry has his mother's eyes. If you bothered to notice, you'd see that he has her heart, as well."

Snape said nothing; he only looked at Dumbledore as he turned to leave the office.

"Have it your way, Severus," he said, sighing. "Good night."

"_Crucio,"_ cried Voldemort once more, and Harry lost count of how many times he'd endured the curse. He could hear Hermione screaming his name, but she seemed so far away.

Harry next saw Dumbledore and Snape arguing. This memory was definitely from last year, because Harry could see Dumbledore's injured hand.

"You do not have a choice, Severus," said Dumbledore.

"Of course I do," replied Snape, sarcastically. "You are the one always going on about how our choices define us."

"Severus," said Dumbledore, "I know I have asked you to do something you find unconscionable, but it is the only way."

"It cannot be," said Snape.

"It is. If you refuse to do it, then you and Draco will both perish. Bellatrix saw to that with the Unbreakable Vow. And if that happens, it is only a matter of time before Voldemort gets to Harry. That cannot happen. Harry is not ready to face him, yet. There is much more that needs to be done and I am trying to help him with that now."

"And if I do as you demand, then you won't be around to help him, anyway. So, what is the difference?"

"Harry will know what he needs to do," said Dumbledore. "Of that, I will make certain. I only ask that you act to give him time to do so."

"No, you only ask that I kill you," said Snape bitterly. "I cannot do it."

"Yes, you can, Severus," said Dumbledore. "You are the only one who can. And if you plan to honor your pledge on Lily's death, then you really do not have a choice. Can you live with yourself if you let her down, yet again?"

Snape glared menacingly at Dumbledore.

"Fine, have it your way, then, Headmaster," he said, echoing what Dumbledore had said to him three years previously and he stormed off, his dark cloak billowing behind him.

And the final memory was undoubtedly from last night. It was of a small portrait of Dumbledore that spoke to Snape by wand light in a very dark space.

"And that is all you want me to tell him?" asked Snape incredulously. "What good will that do? They just attacked the school and that is all you have to offer him – a riddle?"

"Harry knows everything he needs to know. But I suspect he will need to be reminded of the most important thing of all. So yes, that is all I want you to tell him," said Dumbledore calmly. "But it is up to you to convince him to trust you, and that may prove to be the most daunting task of all."

"What was conceived in deception, reared in indifference, driven by thirst, and reborn from hate is powerless against that of which it remains ignorant," repeated Snape through furrowed and angry eyes.

The Dumbledore in the small portrait nodded and the next second, Harry was tossed from Snape's mind and he found himself staring at the hideous reptilian face that was standing over him.

"You looked like you could use a little reprieve, Harry Potter," said Voldemort. "It's not as much fun if you are too far gone to scream and beg. We've heard you scream. Shall we see how well you beg?"

As Voldemort lifted his wand once more, Harry raised his right hand and a blast of red light sent the Dark Lord stumbling backwards into his Death Eaters. Harry did not know how he did so, but he managed to roll over and pull himself up, standing on two very unsteady legs with indescribable pain coursing through him in hot waves.

"_Thank you, Professor, for everything,"_ projected Harry to the man who had made his life a living hell since the first day of class. But Harry realized with certainty that he too, would have perished at Voldemort's hands a long time ago without Snape's efforts.

Everyone else was too stunned by what Harry had just done to notice the look on Snape's face as he heard Harry's words in his mind and focused his black eyes intently upon Harry's green ones. Everyone except Bellatrix, that was.

"You were so keen to find out what was in the rest of Trelawney's prophecy," said Harry, with his attention back on Voldemort, each word cutting through his burning lungs. "Well, I think you should hear it now. Would you like to?"

Voldemort's slit like eyes dilated as Harry recited the prophecy from memory and with great effort.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

There were more gasps and whispers of shock and awe from those on both sides.

"A little patience and restraint would have saved you a whole lot of trouble, Voldemort. Wouldn't you agree?"

"No," screeched Bellatrix and she trained her wand on Harry, but Snape moved like the bat he so often resembled and deflected her curse.

"You traitor!" she shrieked. "All these years. I knew it."

She turned her wand on Snape and he deflected her curse as easily as he had the one she'd aimed at Harry, but his own counter-curse missed Bellatrix by a hair. She did not miss again and this time, the unmistakable green light of the Killing Curse hit him directly over his heart and he fell slowly to the ground.

She'd just given voice to her sick laugh when, from over Harry's shoulder, a second Killing Curse streaked past. And this time, it was Bellatrix who found herself greeted by death. Harry turned expecting to find Jillian or Lupin with their wand aimed where Bellatrix had fallen, but it was Neville. Their loathing of that twisted witch had been equal to and as personal as Harry's own, but none was older than Neville's. He'd needed to settle a score and Harry had never seen his friend look so formidable.

There were less than a dozen Death Eaters left standing with Voldemort. You could see the anxiety on each of their faces, including Voldemort's. But a frightened animal is often the most dangerous and he pointed his wand once more, only now he was aiming for the Order, the Aurors and Harry's friends.

"_Protego_," shouted Harry, and as he splayed the fingers of his right hand in front of the others, a shield of pure gold light wrapped itself around them.

That had never happened before.

Harry's head was spinning as Voldemort threw another curse at him. He was too hurt and too consumed to fight much longer. Harry waved his left hand in front of himself and a second gold shield appeared.

Voldemort could not touch any of them, but he could see the strain Harry was under. He was battered and broken, his shirt ripped and sticking to him and his mouth was filled with blood, which he spat onto the ground.

"It looks like your gift, surprising though it is, is a wasted one," said Voldemort in a hollow whisper that only Harry could hear. "You are unworthy to possess such an ability. But no matter, because when you finally drop, I will finish you, Harry Potter, and every single one of them, except perhaps the witch."

Harry's vision was sliding in and out of focus and he could feel bile rising in his throat.

"Your new friend is quite intriguing," continued Voldemort coldly. "It is a pity she aligned herself with the likes of you. I shall take great pleasure in punishing her for the error in judgment."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to block out everything around him. Voldemort's crude remarks began to fade. Hermione and Ron were screaming his name, but their voices became faint echoes in the back of his mind. Soon, there was nothing else. He was standing in near perfect silence. The only sounds were his own oddly beating heart and labored breathing. Harry could feel the first rays of morning light playing across his face.

He was recalling Snape's voice repeating Dumbledore's last message to him and then he realized it was not the first time he'd heard a part of it. Harry's mind rolled back to the Sorting Hat's last song. It had seemed such an odd and foreboding one. And it had been, but part of it had also been a direct message to Harry, only he'd not fully understood it at the time.

_A beacon of hope dwells within us all, likely_

_To shine brightest when all seems lost;_

_Sadly, such destiny is not without great cost._

_To restore balance and order to our_

_World and to return to ashes an evil _

_That should never have been,_

_One will have to search and find_

_The true source of power within._

_When strength and power have waned_

_The heart will seek what must be attained, _

_Heed well always to these words _

_And remember to look heavenwards._

Harry turned his mind inward and concentrated on everyone he'd ever loved, those lost and those standing with him now and elsewhere. He'd worked so hard this past year to keep his emotions and his heart in check, only to finally understand why Dumbledore had called it his greatest gift. Crafty spells and wandless magic would not be enough to defeat Voldemort.

And Harry stood there, with thoughts and images of his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hermione, the Weasleys, Lupin, Kingsley, Jillian, Moody, Tonks and countless others running through his heart and mind. The more he thought of them, the more even his breathing became and the relentless pain receded from his body.

Harry turned his head up with his eyes still closed; but his mind felt lit by a powerful and warm light. It was as if the sun were coursing through him. He could feel the familiar humming beneath his skin, but it was stronger than he'd ever known it to be. He was not alone. They were with him and all their love was fueling his strength.

Harry lowered his head and opened his eyes, his gaze on the ground before him and he could see Voldemort's robes blowing as he circled Harry like a predator.

"You should accept that it's over, Harry Potter," said Voldemort.

"You are definitely right about that, Voldemort," said Harry, raising his head and staring directly into Voldemort's red eyes.

Harry's green eyes burned with a force that made Voldemort step back from him.

Harry smiled and looked up, and the morning clouds parted to reveal an orb of gold and white so intense, the others had to shield their eyes. The strange light seemed to hang from the heavens directly above Voldemort and Harry.

Harry took a step forward and both his shield and the glowing orb of white and gold light moved in unison.

Had there been any color remaining in Voldemort's face, it would have drained completely as fear and panic replaced the maniacal glint that had been there only moments before. But then the maniac returned once more.

"It will not work, Harry Potter," he yelled. "You cannot control it and protect yourself and your friends. I know you too well. You will not let them come to harm, even if it means giving up the chance to destroy me."

"You are right, again," answered Harry quietly. "You have harmed too many of them already; but no more. I will make sure of that with my last breath."

And Voldemort looked at Harry as his meaning became crystal clear. Harry took a few seconds to look back at the others, still protected in the strange golden shield of light. They were watching him and Jillian and Hermione looked panic stricken. They had figured out what he was about to do.

"I love you," he mouthed to them and turned his back resolutely to them and faced Voldemort once more.

"NO!" shrieked Voldemort, as he began sending useless curses and spells against the shields. "IT IS NOT POSSIBLE!"

Harry watched him for a moment, feeling oddly removed from everything going on around him. Voldemort's remaining Death Eaters were either huddled in fear or watching in complete disbelief, still shielding their eyes from the glow above.

"It is very possible," said Harry. "You should have understood that. The very thing that stopped you that night in Godric's Hollow will destroy you now. You should have believed Dumbledore when he told you it was the most powerful force of magic in the world."

"IT IS NOT!" he argued. "I HAVE DONE THINGS OTHER WIZARDS HAVE NEVER DARED TO DREAM!"

"And yet, here you stand," added Harry, calmly and quietly, wanting at least this part of their twisted conversation to be private. "My father died trying to save us and my mother's love saved me all those years ago. And Snape apparently loved her enough to fool you and everyone else practically my entire life. My godfather risked absolutely everything for me. And Dumbledore willingly gave up his life to make sure we would stand here today."

"And all your mighty protectors are gone," pressed Voldemort, his voice getting louder as his panic and anger rose. "They are all dead by my hand or my bidding!"

"You are still wrong," said Harry with conviction, his own voice raised once more. "They are dead, but they are not gone. They never will be. They're with me right now and I have never felt closer to them. Perhaps it's because of the place on which we stand. Did you realize we are on the land where Godric Gryffindor was born?"

Voldemort's eyes went still.

"I take that as a no," continued Harry. "I thought it fitting since he was the only founder whose memory you were unable to soil with your filthy Horcruxes. And he was also Dumbledore's ancestor. You've got to love the irony of it all. And I've got one last message from all of them, and from me."

What was left of Voldemort's lips turned up in a hideous snarl, but he never got a chance to say another word.

"GO TO HELL, TOM RIDDLE!" Harry said and then dropped his own shield and lifted his eyes to the orb in the sky, his left hand pointed directly at Voldemort, who seemed suddenly frozen to the spot.

Heat like nothing Harry had ever felt radiated across the landscape. It was as if the sun were trying to touch the ground upon which they stood. Every bit of energy from the orb seemed to pulsate through the top of Harry's head and out from his hand at Voldemort.

Harry watched as Voldemort's wand dropped to the ground. He heard the remaining Death Eaters yelling and screaming. And then he heard Voldemort screaming in absolute agony.

Harry's vision blurred and his own legs buckled. He dropped to his knees, but he kept his arms and hands steady, one aimed at Voldemort and the other holding the shield that still protected his friends.

He could hear the others screaming for him to stop, but he couldn't. Didn't they understand? He couldn't, not until Voldemort was gone.

"_Drop the shield, Harry, please,_"came Jillian's voice in his head. He shook his head and closed his mind to her pleas and any others.

Harry heard her swear in frustration and then his right arm shook as she started battering against the inside of his shield with her own spells. He knew he couldn't hold Jillian off forever, but he didn't need very much longer.

He was watching the night of Voldemort's rebirth in reverse order, with Voldemort's screams echoing without end. His robes burned from his form and then his skin melted away from his body in excruciating slowness. Muscles and tendons and veins and organs disintegrated until only a skeleton remained.

Harry's right arm finally dropped as Jillian broke through his shield, but he did not turn around to face them.

He watched Voldemort's bones darken to black coal and splinter upon the ground, roasting until they turned to ash.

Harry's left arm came down and he was on his hands and knees, his face turned to watch the orb retreat back behind the clouds. And then Voldemort's ashes were swept away on a high wind that seemed to come down from the mountaintops.

Suddenly, every bit of pain that had been held at bay came crashing back on him and he tried to cry out as he collapsed against the blood soaked ground, but he was unable to make a sound. He felt hands on him and forced himself to open his eyes. His glasses seemed to be gone, but he saw Hermione's blurred face inches from his own and her eyes told him what he already knew. Harry closed his eyes and slipped into oblivion.


	27. Chapter 27: The Awakening

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: AWAKENING 

Harry opened his eyes and nearly yelled when he saw Sirius kneeling over him.

"You said you couldn't come back," said Harry confusedly, sitting up and taking in Sirius, who looked whole and healthy beside him.

"I can't. I haven't," replied Sirius, eying Harry alarmingly.

"Then where are we?" asked Harry.

"Where I have been for the last two years," said Sirius. "I was just about to leave here; but you shouldn't be here at all. I just watched you send that bastard to Hades. I don't understand. Why are you here? Why have you given up?"

"Given up what?" asked Harry, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"Look down there," said Sirius, and Harry saw that they were somehow suspended in mid air, on a hard, clear surface. He felt like he was a million miles away; but as he peered down, he seemed to be hovering only a few feet above the others.

He saw several of the surviving Order and Aurors working to secure the remaining Death Eaters. However, Harry lurched when he saw his friends bent over his form. Their distress was palpable. Andre and Jillian looked like they were trying to pump life back into Harry's body. Bill and Kingsley were undoing the Six-Point spell. And Hermione, Ron, Neville and Lupin all looked shell shocked.

Harry had not felt this disembodied since his experience with Hermione and the Time-Turner. And then he remembered. He pulled at his shirt and showed Sirius a gaping wound in his back that ended in a large and bloodied bruise inches from his navel. He'd nearly been skewered when Voldemort slammed him against the broken ground. He did not know how many bones and ribs had been broken and at least one lung had to have been punctured, perhaps both. Harry had literally been slowly drowning in his own blood as he got to his feet and faced Voldemort. But here with Sirius, he felt no pain, even though the wounds were still vividly apparent.

Sirius's eyes filled as he looked at Harry and reached out to grasp his hand firmly.

"No, it's not your time," he said. "You need to go back while you can, before the veil re-closes. You need to keep fighting."

"Sirius," said Harry, his voice trembling as he recalled the indescribable pain that racked his broken body. "I'm so unbelievably tired. I don't know that I can do this anymore."

Sirius pulled Harry to him and held him tightly.

"Yes, you can. Try," he said, "for your parents and for me and for Dumbledore; and for everyone else who loves you. Try for the ones down there who are fighting to save you. Try so that you can have the life we so desperately want for you. You shouldn't miss another moment of it. You've lost and given so much. You deserve something real and true. Please, Harry, you have to keep going."

They peered down again just as Jillian raised her face skyward. It was tear stained and her brown eyes were clouded with trepidation and dolor.

"Jillian," whispered Sirius and he reached out a hand, as if he could actually caress her.

She touched her cheek and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were sharp and glinting like two Knuts in the sunlight. She threw back her head and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"SIRIUS—YOU SON OF A BITCH—DON'T YOU DARE LET THIS HAPPEN! DON'T YOU DARE TAKE HIM, DAMN YOU! OR I SWEAR ON ALL THAT IS HOLY, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER REST IN PEACE!"

Everyone on the ground was looking at Jillian's as if she'd surely just lost her mind, including Kingsley. Harry's jaw dropped in shock and so did Sirius's, at least for a few seconds. Then he threw back his own head and let out the deep, rough laughter that Harry loved so much.

"And if for no other reason, try and take pity on your godfather and save me from having that amazing woman haunting me throughout eternity," said Sirius, his eyes alight with emotion as he realized Jillian had felt his touch. "You know she'd probably find a way to do it."

"Okay," said Harry, sad to leave when he knew going on with Sirius would reunite him with the family he'd lost; but also truly knowing it was not what they wanted for him.

"Good," said Sirius. "Now, don't ever forget…"

"I know," interrupted Harry, placing a hand over his own heart. "Each of you is always with me. And I'll give Jillian your love."

"Right," replied Sirius, putting his hand over Harry's. "I'm so very pleased you have each other in your lives. Now do me one more favor and make sure she ends up with a decent bloke, all right?"

Harry smiled and nodded, and Sirius winked at his godson before pushing him firmly over the abyss.

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Voices and lights and odd noises kept interrupting the deepest sleep Harry had ever known. He knew he'd been trying to open his eyes, but it seemed to take the greatest amounts of effort.

When Harry was finally able to open them fully and focus, he found himself tucked tightly beneath soft and warm bedding. He looked around and through his naturally blurred vision, saw he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts.

He tried to shift himself up, but gasped when pain shot through him like hot pin pricks.

"Take it easy, Harry," said a voice, which Harry recognized as Bill Weasley's. "Let me get Madam Pomfrey and the Healers."

Twenty minutes later, Harry had been poked and prodded, and helped into a sitting position, his back propped against countless pillows.

Bill returned and handed Harry his glasses, and even putting those on caused Harry some minor aches. Bill sat in the chair next to Harry's bed and regarded him closely.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like I've been run through by a bolt of lightening," said Harry, his voice coarse and gruff.

"Well, that's pretty much what happened," said Bill, pouring a glass of water from the bedside table and holding it for Harry to sip from. "Although that apparently had nothing to do with what almost did you in. We had no idea you'd been hurt that badly. We nearly passed out when Andre cut off your shirt. You were a right mess, Harry."

Harry closed his eyes and tried to take his mind back there. Everything seemed so fuzzy and so long ago.

"What happened – after, you know?" asked Harry.

"We thought we were going to lose you out there, but Andre and Jillian refused to give up on you. Kingsley and I undid the Six-Point Spell and we all Apparated to the gates of the school, with Kingsley carrying you. Everyone who'd been stationed on the grounds came running towards us; but we didn't have time to undo the protection around the school. Hermione yelled for Dobby and he showed up in an instant. The second he saw you, he grabbed Kingsley's robes and got you both inside."

Harry had no memory of any of it.

"Jillian and Lupin worked to break through the protective barriers; and no one cared whether or not they went back up," continued Bill. "We got inside less than ten minutes behind you and McGonagall was already pacing the hospital corridor. Luckily, one of the witches who'd shown up to help the night before was a Healer from St. Mungo's. I won't lie to you; it was touch and go there for quite a while. But she and Madam Pomfrey were eventually able to stabilize you. She was one of the two others checking you over just now. We've been waiting for you to wake up, ever since."

"How long have I been out?" asked Harry.

"Well, there were moments where it looked like you were coming around, but they never lasted more than a few seconds. This really is the first you've been awake in almost three weeks. We've been taking turns sitting with you so that you wouldn't wake up alone."

"Three weeks?" repeated Harry and Bill nodded.

Harry closed his eyes and let his head sink against the pillows. He thought he'd only been out a few days or so. Three weeks was a long time. The Easter break had come and gone and everyone he'd cared about and lost during those last days would have already been buried. He'd not had a chance to pay his respects or say goodbye to any of them: Mrs. Weasley, Percy, Hagrid, Seamus, Moody and Tonks. And who knew how many others.

Harry opened his eyes and asked, "Was everyone here still okay?"

"Yes, there were some additional injuries, but everyone's pulled through fine," said Bill. "As I understand it, Greyback's friends showed up, along with a surprising number of low-level Death Eaters. It looks like they were part of the team that overtook Hogsmeade. But they were no match for Grawp, the centaurs and Aurors, or Fred and George. The twins showed the visiting Aurors how to get through the tunnel to Hogsmeade and they pretty much overwhelmed the attackers from the front and back. I think you might find your D.A. a wee bit corrupted by my brothers."

Harry was relieved that no one else had been killed and he tried to smile, but couldn't.

Bill seemed to understand why.

"Madam Pomfrey's going to strangle me if I don't let her tell the others you are awake," he said and Harry looked a bit confused.

"I asked her to hold off so that I could speak to you alone, first," he explained, extracting Harry's letter and the two other unopened envelopes from his bag.

He picked up the heavier of the two and pulled his wand. With a quick wave, the envelope and its contents went up in flames and disappeared.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to be able to do that," said Bill. "I never wanted to have to open that one."

Harry looked at Bill and said, "But I knew you would if you had to. That's why I chose you."

Bill nodded. "I'm going to let you get some rest," he said, standing up and gripping Harry's shoulder gently. "We can talk about this other one later, whenever you are ready."

"Okay," said Harry. "Thanks."

"And Harry," said Bill as he turned to leave, "if I'm ever in a jam, you're the first one I'm calling."

This time Harry did manage a very small grin.

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He kept trying to go over everything that happened; but the more he did, the more exhausted he became. It felt like someone else's life, like those things couldn't possibly have happened because they were too awful to have been real.

And after learning he'd been unconscious for weeks, Harry thought more sleep would be the last thing he'd need; but his body and mind thought otherwise and he gave in and fell into slumber.

This time, it was soft whispers that pulled him awake. He'd drifted off with his glasses on and when he opened his eyes, he saw two people in the chair beside his bed. Ron's long legs were stretched out lazily in front of him and Hermione was sitting in his lap, one hand on Ron's shoulder, while he slowly and absentmindedly stroked her hair.

Ron was the one to notice Harry was awake and he sat up so quickly, Harry was surprised he didn't unseat Hermione. They both looked as worn as Harry felt. They were watching him apprehensively and Harry was trying to steady the overwhelming tidal wave of emotions that suddenly bubbled up from absolutely nowhere. Hours ago he'd felt disconnected from everything; but now, it was as if every last bit of it had all just happened.

It had all been real and they'd been there with him; just as they'd sworn they would be, just as they always had been. And they'd helped him every step of the way, fighting alongside him, encouraging him and believing in him when he didn't really believe in himself. He'd been so afraid for them; but he'd forgotten they'd been just as terrified for him.

Ron's eyes were wet and he was making faces in an attempt to maintain control. It was Hermione however, who proved to be Harry's undoing. Her eyes had been the last things he'd seen when both she and Harry believed he was dying. That look still haunted her face as she watched him now, tears already pouring down her cheeks. Harry bit his lower lip, but even that did not stop his own eyes from reddening.

Hermione got from the chair and half crawled around blankets and pillows until she could very carefully and very gently get her arms around him and she held him as though she would never let him go. He did not want her to. The dam finally broke and it was impossible to tell where Hermione's tears ended and Harry's began. Ron finally gave up his own battle and slid in on her other side, embracing both Hermione and Harry.

They were a strange sight – three friends contorted in a hospital bed – with sniffs and sobs nearly indistinguishable among them. But Ginny thought it was the most wonderful thing she'd ever seen when she walked in on them.

She'd run all the way to the hospital wing when she received word that Harry had awakened; but when she saw the three of them together, she did not make a sound. She watched them for a moment longer and slipped quietly back out the door, closing it behind her. She would come back later. The trio needed to start to heal and they needed to do it as they'd done almost everything else, together.

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Ron had brought down Lily's letters and journals and Harry was absorbed in re-reading them when Lupin took him completely unawares.

"Hello, Harry," said Lupin, his voice calm and sad.

"Lupin," said Harry, relieved to see him because he'd been worried about his father's only surviving friend.

Harry moved the journal and letters to the bedside table and Lupin sat on the edge of the bed and encircled him. Harry had never been hugged so much in his life, but he wasn't complaining.

"You gave me quite the fright, young man," said Lupin, his eyes glistening as he watched Harry.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, his eyes beginning to sting. "And I am so sorry we lost Tonks, especially because you lost her. I wish I'd been able to do something."

"Nymphadora died doing her job and trying to help someone else," said Lupin, his voice cracking. "There was nothing else you or any of us could have done."

"But you loved her," said Harry, tentatively.

He'd never actually asked Lupin or Tonks about their growing relationship. He'd always believed they'd find a life together after all this turmoil was over.

"And I always will," said Lupin quietly. "She knew it and that's what mattered."

"I know," he said. "I just wanted to see you happy. I don't think I ever have – not really."

"I'm happy, now," said Lupin.

"How can you be?" asked Harry.

"Because I'm sitting here talking with you and that always brings me joy; but never more than right now. Do you have any idea how proud I am of you? How proud we all are of you?"

"I didn't do any of it by myself," said Harry.

"Oh, yes you did," said Lupin, "the hardest part of all. And it was the most amazing display of courage and selflessness I have ever witnessed. We've lost a lot of dear friends and family, but not a single one of them died in vain; and that Harry, is because of you."

Harry colored and Lupin gave a small laugh.

"What?" asked Harry.

"You are definitely your mother's child," said Lupin. "Your modesty reminds me a great deal of her. Well, I guess you won't be running for Minster of Magic, then?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, trying to figure out why Lupin was suddenly in a mood to tease him.

"We had to put the protective barriers back up around the castle grounds," explained Lupin. "You have a legion of admirers clamoring to get at you, and a great many of them have signs expounding their support of you as Minster of Magic. Fortunately, the centaurs make excellent sentries, so I don't think anyone will be getting too near the gates."

Harry must have looked aghast, because Lupin nearly lost his purchase on the side of the bed as he laughed heartedly.

"I'm sorry," said Lupin, sincerely. "I should not have sprung that on you; but there really are hoards of people who wish to thank you – and a few more ardent ones who think you should run for Minster. The Healers originally wanted to move you to St. Mungo's, but it didn't take long to realize that would not have been a good idea. It was easier for us to guard you from here."

"Why would we need a new Minister?" asked Harry. "What happened to Scrimgeour and to Regulus? And oh, God – Voldemort had a different wand. I think they had Mr. Ollivander all along."

He couldn't believe he'd not talked to Ron and Hermione about any of them.

"Slow down, Harry," advised Lupin. "It was fairly easy to break down a few of the injured and surviving Death Eaters. Ministry Aurors did find Mr. Ollivander. He'd been tortured and ill cared for; but with time, he will eventually recover, at least physically. Apparently, Voldemort didn't want to risk a repeat performance of what happened with your wands in the graveyard. Ollivander was found in an a room with Davis, in whom they apparently did not see any further value in keeping alive."

Harry's stomach turned at the news.

"Minister Scrimgeour is alive and recovering at St. Mungo's," continued Lupin. "But it will be quite a while before he resumes his duties, though."

"And Regulus?" asked Harry, remembering the snakebite and Hermione's efforts to help him.

"Nagini's venom did some damage, but thanks to Hermione, they were able to save his leg. He will however, likely require the aid of a cane for the rest of his life."

There were so many people he needed to see and thank and he was beginning to feel overwhelmed.

"All in due time, Harry," said Lupin, always able to read everything in Harry's eyes. "And lest I forget, your aunt, uncle and cousin are back in Little Whinging."

"Oh, okay," said Harry.

"We told them of your injuries and have sent them regular updates," added Lupin. "Kingsley delivered the latest one a little while ago."

Harry nodded.

"Would you like to see them?" asked Lupin gently. "We could arrange to bring them here."

Harry already felt rubbed raw emotionally. He didn't want to have to deal with any drama from the Dursleys - maybe in the future, but not now. Harry looked at Lupin and shook his head slowly

"No," he said simply.

"I understand," replied Lupin empathetically.

A whole lot of unexpected things had come to light, and his aunt's odd behavior had only been one of them.

"Did Ron and Hermione tell you I needed to talk to you and the others about Snape?" asked Harry.

"Yes," he answered. "They found me just after they left you earlier today. But you needn't worry. I already know."

"How?" asked Harry.

"You've forgotten part of our chat at the Burrow, have you?"

Harry frowned as he tried to recall that morning under the tree.

"I was to be alerted when the last person tasked with assisting you had fulfilled his or her duties. A letter from Dumbledore arrived hours after we returned to Hogwarts. Actually, two letters arrived, one for me and one for McGonagall. I guess Dumbledore did not want to risk the truth not coming out in the event I met my demise."

Harry shook his head at Lupin's matter-of-fact manner, but did not interrupt him.

"In short, the letter explained that everything Severus did was under direct order from Dumbledore, including ending his life. It seems Severus had been working to protect you since you first arrived here at Hogwarts."

"Did it tell you why Dumbledore never doubted Snape?" asked Harry.

"No, it did not," said Lupin. "I guess that secret rests with both of them."

"No, it doesn't," said Harry. "I know why, and I think you should, as well."

Lupin listened intently as Harry described every memory that Snape revealed to him that terrified morning.

"Lily?" said Lupin, incredulously. "He turned to Dumbledore and the Order because of Lily?"

"Yes," said Harry. "My mother saved me twice. One was that night in Godric's Hollow; but also long before that, when she tried to befriend a boy who was pretty much friendless."

"Unbelievable," said Lupin.

"So, you never knew?" asked Harry.

"No," said Lupin. "I knew Severus and Lily were Slughorn's favorite Potions students; but that was the beginning and end of it. James never said anything. Honestly, by the time he and Lily really got involved, he'd probably forgotten all about it. I'm sure Sirius would have. I doubt any of them, including your mother, knew the extent of Severus's feelings for her."

Lupin ran his hands through his ever-graying hair and looked at Harry.

"How do you feel about all of it?" asked Lupin.

"I don't really know," said Harry. "Snape hated Sirius and Dad, and he hated me from day one simply for looking like him. He went out of his way to make me miserable at every opportunity and I pretty much despised him for it. But because of Mum, he still did whatever he had to do to protect me. I mean – could you have killed Dumbledore if he'd asked you?"

"No," said Lupin, "I could not have."

"Me, neither," said Harry. "Whatever else happened or was said no longer seems important. I'm grateful to Snape and I always will be. I'm just glad I got a chance to say thank you before he died."

"Who else knows about Lily?" asked Lupin.

"Ron and Hermione, of course, and now you. I'll confide in Ginny and then Jillian – because of Sirius – but that's it. And well, I sort of told Voldemort, but that was so I could torture him with the truth," said Harry, not realizing his eyes had darkened simply from the memory of it.

"And had I not been so afraid that you were dying before my very eyes," said Lupin, interrupting Harry's thoughts, "I would have fallen backwards when Jillian started yelling for Sirius like she did."

"Yeah, I heard about that," said Harry, knowing that everyone else thought she'd been acting irrationally out of a combination of grief and fear.

"It wasn't until we knew you were out of danger that we learned from Kingsley how she knew Sirius. I was floored to hear she'd been his fiancée."

"I had a similar reaction when I found out," said Harry.

"How long have you known?" asked Lupin.

"I found out a couple of months ago," said Harry. "Jillian hadn't planned on telling anyone; but I stumbled upon a picture of Sirius in her quarters and everything followed from there. It was all pretty incredible."

"So that is the reason you dropped your Cloak and revealed yourself in the Hog's Head, then?" asked Lupin.

"Yeah," said Harry. "I just reacted. You and Tonks were stunned by Regulus's reappearance, but at least you knew what he looked like. Seeing bits of Sirius in his face was difficult. I felt out of sorts watching him; but I knew Jillian was probably ready to scream."

"Well, that explains some things, like why no one seemed to know very much about her or why Kingsley had never mentioned her very much. McGonagall had only said she was exceptionally talented, but that seems a gross understatement. She was remarkable out there, none more so than when we realized how injured you were. She and Andre could have probably had careers as Healers. And I think Andre is smitten with her."

"Really?" said Harry, believing Sirius would have approved of Andre and wondering if Jillian would finally be ready to let someone else into her life.

"Yes, but don't tell him I said anything," remarked Lupin. "I've since seen his weapons collection and some of what he's taught you to do. At this age, I've grown quite attached to my appendages, thank you very much."

Harry laughed and coughed slightly.

"That's enough for now," said Lupin concernedly as he stood from the bed. "I want you to promise to get some rest and I'll make sure Poppy lets you have one more visitor later this evening – say a certain red headed witch who's been patiently letting everyone else monopolize your time."

"It's a deal," said Harry, "And Lupin, thank you for everything. Mum, Dad and Sirius couldn't have asked for a better friend. Nor could I."

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Harry knew she was in the room before he ever opened his eyes. He could hear her light footfalls on the stone floor and her fragrance slowly pulled him to full consciousness. If this was a dream, then he was going to be really annoyed.

But it wasn't. Ginny's soft lips brushed his forehead and her small hand sought out one of his atop the blankets. When she made to step back from the bed, Harry squeezed her hand and opened his eyes.

"Hi, Beautiful," he said.

"Hi there yourself, Handsome," she said smiling, and like everyone else who'd visited him today, sat beside him on the bed. "What's new?"

Harry looked at her and said, "Not much, just the usual."

"Really?" she asked. "Like leading an army of fighters and magical creatures; like ridding our world of the most evil wizard in history; and oh yeah, like nearly getting yourself killed and leaving me forever."

She wasn't smiling now and Harry didn't know quite what to say to her.

She'd already lost her mother, her brother, and several friends. They'd had a very difficult year, and just when it looked like their mutual grief was helping them find their way back to each other, Harry had left from the Great Hall and she'd really had no idea if he and the others would come back alive.

"Ginny," started Harry, but she cut him off.

"It's a good thing you are hurt, Harry James Potter," she said, "Otherwise, I'd throttle you right about now."

He knew she was trying to be brave and strong for him, but she didn't have to be. He loved her for trying, but it was unnecessary.

"No, you wouldn't," he said calmly, watching her closely.

"Yes, I would," she said unconvincingly, twisting a strand of her long red hair around her finger.

"No, you would not," he repeated softly, squeezing the hand he still held and reaching for the other one that was entwined in her hair.

She stopped fidgeting, but her eyes were downcast.

"Ginny, look at me, please," said Harry.

She did and Harry took a deep breath.

"I would never leave you forever," he said. "You are in my heart and I hope I am in yours."

She nodded, with one lone tear trailing slowly down her cheek.

"So, even if the worst had happened, I'd still be near you," he said. "Someone else once told me that and although I wanted to believe it, I didn't really understand it until very recently. But it is so very true. Trust me."

"I always have," she said and a second tear joined the first. "But we'd just lost Mum and Percy and it hurt so much. It still does. I was so afraid for you all. I was prouder of you than I'd ever been, but I was terrified. I kept telling myself that you'd be fine, that you'd all be fine."

He hated having put her through any of it.

"I ran downstairs when I heard you were back and I saw Kingsley covered in blood and I knew it was yours. Don't ask me how. I just knew, even before I saw Ron and Hermione. And then I finally saw them and Bill and the others – and Harry, I don't ever want to see them like that again," she said, her voice faltering.

"Sshh," he said and pulled her towards him.

It was worth a little physical pain to feel her nestled in his arms, her head just under his chin. She'd not shed any other tears. It was just the two of them, talking when they felt like it, comfortably silent when they did not.

"There are all sorts of stories and rumors about what happened out there," she said quietly.

"I'm not surprised," he answered. "But you've had the inside track with your brothers, Hermione and Neville."

"I didn't really ask and they weren't volunteering many details," she said. "Neville's nearly as protective of you as Ron and Hermione are. I don't think he's talked to anyone other than Luna and Dean."

Harry swallowed back the lump in his throat. Dean had lost his best friend and Seamus's parents would have buried their only child.

"Well, I can tell you that all of them, including Seamus, were incredibly brave and I don't know what would have happened without them."

"And are you ready to tell me what did happen?" she asked without pressure.

"No," said Harry. "One day, but not now."

Ginny tilted her head back to look steadily into his breathtaking eyes.

Harry was different. It took a little longer for him to smile and a little longer for the light to reach his eyes. The boy she'd had a crush on since she was ten years old was in there somewhere; but it was the man who looked back at her now. He'd been through so much, more than seemed possibly fair. He'd weathered it all, but not without penalty. There was pain and sorrow in his face, and something else she could not name. She could scarcely imagine everything that must be going through his mind, everything he must be feeling.

"I wish I could take some of it away for you," she said, reaching out to trace his jaw line.

"You are," he replied, "just by being here with me."

"Is there anything else I can do?" she asked sincerely.

"Maybe this," he whispered and he tilted his head down to hers, their lips meeting in a much overdue kiss that was long and tender and unhurried. It felt new.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much," he answered. "You've got a far better bedside manner than Madam Pomfrey."

And she watched the shadows leave his eyes as he laughed with her.

"Just for that, I'll join you in here for breakfast tomorrow," she said, reluctantly pulling from his arms and standing to leave. "Good night, Harry Potter."

"Good night, Ginny Weasley," he said, a very small smile at the corners of his mouth as he watched her go.

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Harry woke up in the middle of the night, disoriented and drenched in sweat with his heart beating rapidly. Fading images of red eyes and dancing flames still held his attention.

"Harry, it's all right," came a voice in the darkness. "You're fine. You're just dreaming."

It was Jillian and she lit the space around his bed with soft light and stood beside it.

"Relax," she said, a soft and comforting hand on his shoulder. "Breathe slowly."

He did and he finally focused on her fuzzy image.

"Do you want your glasses?" she asked.

He shook his head and she pulled a chair close to the bed and sat beside him.

The door to Madam Pomfrey's quarters must have opened because Jillian looked up and said, "It's fine, Poppy. Really, I've got him," and this time Harry heard it close.

"What time is it?" asked Harry.

"It's close to three," she said.

"Three," repeated Harry, trying to mask his anxiety. "Forever the insomniac, aren't you?"

"You've got a nerve," she replied. "But yes, I volunteered for the night shift. Lupin and I have been alternating since we brought you back. He and I agreed the first few nights after you woke up might be a little rough, so I took tonight. I hope you don't mind."

"How could I?" replied Harry. "I've been wanting to see you. Of course, I didn't think it would be because I woke up from a nightmare looking like I've been swimming."

"Considering everything you've been through, the dreams aren't really a surprise. But believe me when I tell you they will start to fade. As for the rest of it - well, I can fix that," she said and with a few waves of her hand, Harry and the bed were clean and dry, with fresh pajamas and linens.

"Thanks," he said and propped himself up, finally retrieving his glasses for himself.

"I did stop by yesterday, but you were asleep and I didn't want to wake you."

"I don't know why I can't seem to stay awake. You'd think I'd have had enough sleep by now."

"Your body sustained a lot of trauma," she said. "Fortunately, it isn't nearly as stubborn as you are. If I weren't so happy to know you are okay, I'd be shaking you right now."

Harry raised a brow at her. She was the second person who'd threatened him with physical harm in the last six hours.

"When you fell to your knees, your dropped into a puddle of blood and Andre was the one to realize it was your own. You were bleeding out and you wouldn't lower that bloody shield," she said, her voice thickening.

"I had to finish it, Jillian," he replied simply. "No matter what."

Her eyes glistened, but she fought back her tears and let out a slow breath.

"Well, you definitely did that. I've seen a lot of things in my work. I've done a lot of things. But what happened out there was unbelievable."

"Jillian," he started hesitantly. "Where'd the silver and gold light come from? You've been teaching me all year and I'd never…"

Jillian raised a hand to stop him. She knew he'd have this question.

"I think I told you that those who share our ability possess it in different degrees and strength," she said.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, you did."

"Well, my ability is fairly strong. Again, it's the main reason my father wouldn't let anyone but Dumbledore mentor me when I was younger. When I can harness it at its fullest, it manifests in silver light."

"So, that's how you were able to charge the sword?"

"Yes. I believed your ability would eventually be as strong as mine, maybe more so. And it is, Harry. I knew it when I saw that first shield go up around us. But as for the orb, I can't explain where it came from and I lost my breath when I realized you could control it. You've done them all proud, Harry," she said.

Harry knew of whom she spoke and he already knew that orb had been from them, of them, of their combined power and love for him, and their faith in what he was doing. A little of Harry's blood had been Voldemort's downfall. It was what allowed that power to flow through Harry into him. But he'd had none of Harry's love and thus, no protection from the immense power radiating from that sphere that hung above them.

"So, do you always go around threatening the souls of the departed?" he asked lightly.

"Oh, you heard about that?" she asked, looking slightly embarrassed.

"No, we heard you," he replied.

"You barely had a pulse. How could you possibly…wait, who's we?" she asked.

Harry had been debating on how to tell her what he believed she had to hear, what she deserved to understand.

"I know this is going to sound crazy, but I was with Sirius. We heard you."

Her brown eyes were watching him apprehensively. He knew everyone had been trying to convince her she'd imagined that she could reach out to him.

"No," she said quietly. "You must have heard it in your subconscious."

Harry took her hand and said very slowly, "I was as close to death as anyone could come and Sirius was there. He was begging me to fight for my life and we were watching all of you when you looked up. He saw you and he reached out. You did not imagine anything."

Jillian looked at him intently and he could see she was struggling with what her heart was telling her and what her head and everyone else was saying.

"Trust me, Jillian. Here," he said quietly and opened his mind to her and the memory he knew she needed to see.

Harry felt her slip gently into his thoughts and he replayed everything that happened after he awoke and saw Sirius. Silent tears ran beneath her now lowered lids. The memory ended and neither of them moved or spoke for a while.

Her free hand went to a chain beneath her blouse and when she pulled it out, Harry saw the diamond and ruby ring he'd seen in her memory all those months ago. She fingered it and brought it to her lips. When she finally opened her eyes, they were a whirl of colors and emotions.

"He's at peace, Jillian," said Harry quietly. "I promise you that. They all are."

She nodded and clasped his hand, unable to speak. Finally, she let go and wiped her eyes.

"Thank you," she said in a throaty voice. "You are the only one who could possibly know how much that means to me."

She leaned forward and gave him a dimpled smile, touched his jaw lightly and pulled his glasses off, yet again.

"Now, back to sleep, please," she said. "You and I have got to stop having these night owl conversations."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry had a lot of visitors over the next week. He spent a great deal of time with Mr. Weasley, answering countless questions about Muggles. He didn't mind one bit. He knew Mr. Weasley loved discovering new things about Muggles, and if anyone deserved some joy, he certainly did.

Charlie came with Fred and George, who made Harry laugh so much, Madam Pomfrey threatened to ban them from future visits.

McGonagall had dropped her usually stern manner and hugged Harry so tightly he thought she was going to crack one of his just mended ribs. And the other teachers were incredibly kind. Professor Slughorn gifted Harry with a large box of his beloved crystallized pineapples. Professor Sprout turned the hospital wing into a mini greenhouse filled with bright and beautiful floral arrangements. His favorite though, had to be a small harp from Professor Flitwick, which sat on the bedside table and played softly during the night. Harry's bad dreams had indeed begun to fade.

From Kingsley and Andre he heard about the efforts to flush out any remaining Death Eaters. It would be hard to know exactly how many more there were, but they were making headway and most of the Wizarding community was cooperating. Harry knew there would always be those who turned to the Dark Arts; but he also knew there would always be those who would stand up to fight against it.

He and Lupin had a lengthy conversation about the friends and loved ones they'd lost. Harry was touched to learn that Hagrid had been buried on the school grounds. And McGonagall had convinced the school governors to allow Snape to be entombed next to the place where Professor Dumbledore rested. It seemed a fitting final resting place for him, alongside the man who'd trusted him and in the only place he'd ever really called home.

Mrs. Weasley and Percy were buried on the closest hilltop overlooking the Burrow. And Seamus's parents had also laid their son to rest near their own home.

The Ministry had opted to bury many of its lost Aurors, with their families' permission, near where they'd fallen. So Moody and Tonks rested in Godric's Hollow, not very far from Harry's parents' graves.

It had all come full circle. Everything had ended where it began.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny visited numerous times a day. He told them they were going to end up in detention if they didn't stop skiving off classes, which had indeed resumed. Even Hermione had missed a few. But apparently, no one was really worried. Hermione had taken to reviewing N.E.W.T. material when she visited, figuring Harry should make an effort to catch up on his studies. Ron had laughed and said he'd love to see the Ministry official who would dare fail Harry.

All the seventh-years were busy making plans for what they would do once they left Hogwarts. It was such a normal thing to do, but Harry hadn't given it another thought. He knew he would have to, though.

On the morning of what would turn out to be his last day in the hospital wing Harry glanced around to find Neville walking towards him. In only the last few years had Harry learned their lives had been running on a very unusual set of parallel tracks. It was Harry who reached out to embrace his friend, first and Neville seemed surprised and moved. Harry was more proud of Neville than he'd ever be able to tell him.

"How are you feeling, Neville?" asked Harry.

"I'm good," said Neville. "I mean I'm sad about Seamus and the others. But in a weird way, I'm better than I've been in a long time, actually."

"I know what you mean," said Harry, and he did.

"How about you?" asked Neville. "You look tons better than the last time I saw you."

"I was lucky," said Harry. "I'm actually getting out of here later today."

"That wasn't just luck," said Neville, turning serious. "But whatever it was, I'm glad you're still here."

"You had a lot to do with that," said Harry. "You all did."

"I guess you'll be needing this, then," added Neville, pulling Harry's wand from his pocket.

Harry was mildly shocked. He knew he didn't have it, but he just assumed Ron or Hermione did.

"What good is a wizard without his wand?" asked Neville, slowly grinning at Harry while he said it.

Ginny had been right. Neville hadn't told a soul about all he'd witnessed Harry do, and he probably never would.

"What good, indeed," said Harry. "Thanks for retrieving it."

Harry was gathering his things later that morning, when someone knocked at the doorframe to the hospital wing. He turned and saw Regulus Black.

"Might I come in?" he asked.

Harry nodded and watched him move forward slowly while leaning slightly on a very handsomely carved cane. He took a seat in one of the bedside chairs and gestured at Harry, who took the seat beside him.

"If this is too uncomfortable for you," said Regulus, "I can transfigure back to Baldwin."

Harry thought it a kind gesture, but he shook his head.

"There's no need," he said. "I know you're not Sirius and besides, you should be able to be yourself, now."

"I know you've heard this a million times," said Regulus, "but you look exactly like James, with one obvious exception."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry.

"My brother and your father were as thick as thieves," he said. "I am ashamed to admit, I envied them both for it."

"Really?"

"Sirius and I were never particularly close as boys," explained Regulus. "He was always the one who stood out: in looks, in talent and in the mere fact that he was always somehow different from the rest of us. Just that alone made him the talk of the family and I always felt slighted by it. It was stupid I know, given that I was our parents' favorite. But I was even jealous of the time they spent berating him."

Harry saw a small glimpse of the childhood Sirius rebelled against.

"I was so happy to get to Hogwarts and especially into Slytherin House, away from his shadow, finally able to escape being his little brother. But I found out it didn't matter. Sirius's allure had only grown during his years here. He was still the one everyone wanted to know, wanted to talk to, wanted to be in with. And his special circle was a small one. And even though Remus and Peter were part of it, there was something transcending about the bond he shared with your father. He'd finally found the brother he always wanted, always needed."

"Yes, they were like brothers," said Harry. "But I don't think Sirius stopped caring about you. He was disappointed when you joined the Death Eaters, but he talked about how you tried to break away and about how he believed you died. He thought you'd gotten in over your head."

"I had," he said. "If not for the Dumbledores, I would have been killed. Then about a year or so after I'd been hidden, I heard about your parents' murders and Sirius's incarceration. I knew they were wrong, but I didn't do anything to try and help him. I was a coward."

"I don't know everything that happened back then," said Harry, "but I know you came back this time. And you helped us; you helped me. I don't think any of that makes you a coward."

"Thank you for saying that, Harry," replied Regulus. "But I didn't come here to dredge through my issues. I merely wanted the chance to speak to you properly before I go."

"You're leaving?" asked Harry. "Why?"

"Because nothing here has been home in a very long time. I have a whole other life away from here, one that I'm actually proud of."

"But what about Grimmauld Place?" asked Harry.

"What about it?" asked Regulus. "Sirius left it all to you."

"Yes, but you're his brother. Surely you want…"

"No, Harry," interrupted Regulus. "Sirius was the eldest son and he was within his rights to leave his assets to you. I am more than comfortable. I'd already received a generous inheritance when our father died. And besides, Grimmauld Place only reminds me of my old life, my old mistakes. It deserves new memories, happy ones. I'll leave it to you to make them."

"Okay," said Harry. "But I'd like to do something, if you'll let me."

Regulus eyed him curiously.

"Kreacher," called Harry and the house-elf appeared in an instant.

"Yes, Master," said Kreacher and he shrieked and dropped into hysterics when he took in Regulus sitting beside Harry.

"Kreacher, please stop," said Harry and the house-elf stopped his loud crying, but tears continued streaming from his huge eyes.

Harry looked at Regulus questioningly and Regulus understood what he meant to do. He smiled and nodded discreetly at Harry.

"Kreacher," continued Harry, "I have something to ask you. How would you like to go live with Regulus?"

The elf's already saucer size eyes grew wider with shock as he watched Harry.

"Kreacher's young master is very clever indeed to have defeated the Dark Lord," said the house elf. "Young Master is not trying to trick Kreacher, is he?"

"It is not a trick, Kreacher," said Harry. "If you'd like to go with Regulus and work for him, you have my permission to do so."

The house-elf bowed deeply at Harry, without rancor or malice and then stood and threw his arms about Regulus's uninjured leg.

Regulus bent forward and said something in one of Kreacher's bat like ears.

"Thank you, Harry," said Regulus. "It has truly been a pleasure."

"Bye, Regulus," said Harry and he watched as he and the Black's long serving elf disappeared with a crack.

It was mid afternoon when Harry convinced Madam Pomfrey to let him go outdoors before he was to be officially released at dinnertime. She'd been resistant at first, but when he told her he wanted to visit Hagrid's grave, she relented.

It was Friday and most everyone else was still in class, so Harry was able to slip out without being spotted. He walked a little stiffly across the grounds and around the back of the cabin. It was weird not to hear Fang's bark greeting him; but he knew the large dog was in good hands. He'd been staying at the Burrow with Charlie and Harry had no doubt Hagrid would have been pleased with the arrangement.

Buckbeak was tethered in the large vegetable patch. Lupin and the Order had seen to his return and the other hippogriffs.

"You really do like it here, don't you?" asked Harry, as he rubbed Buckbeak's neck following their customary greeting. "I'll have to talk to Professor McGonagall about letting you stay on. But don't worry, I'll visit you lots."

Harry saw a raised mound beneath the expanse of trees off in the distance. His legs felt much heavier as he made his way towards it. He raised his eyes as he approached it and slowed. They had buried Hagrid beneath the very tree at which Harry had been aiming his bow and arrows last fall.

A small shape passed overheard and Harry saw a well-recognized, small white form coming towards him. It was Hedwig, who was usually asleep at this time of day. Ron and Hermione had been looking after her while Harry was in the hospital. The owl landed gently on his shoulder and nipped lightly and playfully at his right ear and fingers.

"I've missed you too, Hedwig," he said, stroking her soft feathers. "Hagrid got you for me, remember? Thanks for coming to help me say goodbye."

Something about being outdoors had reawakened his heightened senses, which had begun to feel unused of late. Just as on another day, he heard the familiar sound of hooves and looked up in time to see Firenze approaching from the forest entrance.

"It is good to see you so well, Harry Potter," said Firenze.

Harry had not seen the centaur since the night the school was attacked.

"Hi, Firenze. Thanks. Are you back with the others, then?" asked Harry when he heard and saw the direction from which Firenze appeared.

"Nearly," said the centaur. "Magorian has welcomed me back, but I was just visiting today. I will return for good after term ends. The school has already lost two teachers this year. I did not wish to make things more difficult for Professor McGonagall."

"That's great, Firenze," said Harry, sincerely happy for the centaur.

"I am told you and Hagrid had quite a bit to do with it," said the centaur, watching Harry unblinkingly "Thank you."

"All we did was stand up for a friend," said Harry.

"Well, the heavens are calm once more," evoked Firenze. "And the herd has agreed to look after the giant, Grawp. I believe our friend should rest peacefully now."

Harry looked towards Hagrid's grave.

"It was I who suggested this as his resting place. They would have allowed him to be buried alongside Professor Dumbledore, as well; but I thought Hagrid would have preferred this. It's always been an unusual tree- the last to lose its leaves and the first to bloom again. Hagrid was a kind and unusual man. I thought it appropriate. I hope you are not disappointed."

"Not in the least," said Harry. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"I shall leave you alone, then, Harry Potter. Good afternoon," called Firenze as he moved back into the depths of the forest.

Harry knelt down at Hagrid's grave and finally let himself grieve for the friend he'd lost.

The late afternoon crept by and then Ron, Hermione and Ginny showed up to collect him for dinner. It would be the first time he faced the whole school and he was relieved he wouldn't have to do it alone. But when he walked through the double doors of the Great Hall, he couldn't help but be moved by what he saw.

The four house tables were there as always, but they were filled with random groupings of students from each house. Some of the Slytherins were still clustered, but there were others around them. The D.A. members were among those seated at the Gryffindor table and Harry could see the places that had been saved for them.

There were two spots draped in black at the staff table, along with one seat next to Dean at the Gryffindor table. But what most took Harry's breath away were the paintings suspended behind the staff table.

Harry saw beautifully rendered images of those they'd lost, both recently and long ago. They floated in two rows, those lost in the first war suspended behind and a little higher than those they'd lost since Voldemort's return. Among them were Dumbledore, Sirius, Moody, Tonks, Snape, Seamus, Cedric, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, Percy, Harry's parents, the Prewett brothers and countless others. These pictures were inanimate and there was no doubt they'd been done by hand. He was so mesmerized that he didn't realize Luna had joined him until he felt her slide her hand into his.

She kissed him gently on the cheek and said in her most effervescent voice, "I don't think things will ever be the same around here again. Or for you, either."

No truer words had ever been spoken, but Harry couldn't respond. He held her hand tighter, but couldn't take his eyes from the paintings.

"Aren't they wonderful?" she asked. "Dean did them. He painted Seamus's the day he died and he's done about one every couple of days since. We thought they should hang in here, so no one will ever forget. Professor Flitwick charmed them for us."

Harry finally pulled his eyes away and turned to seek out his housemate. Dean met his gaze for an extended moment, gave a nod and small smile, and then stood and raised a glass to Harry. The room erupted in applause and scraping benches as nearly everyone else joined him, Zabini among them.

Luna pulled him along with the others and they took their seats with their friends and peers. And it was probably the finest feast the school had ever known.


	28. Chapter 28: A New Beginning

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: A NEW BEGINNING 

The last weeks went by fairly quickly and before long, O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were a thing of the past and Harry was more relieved than anyone.

It turned out Ron hadn't been far off the mark. The Ministry official who was administering Harry's practical exam in Transfiguration spent most of the allotted time beaming at him and asking Harry the strangest questions. Harry had to ask the older wizard if perhaps he should actually transfigure something before their time was up.

And the witch overseeing his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam said it was absurd to put him through such useless exercises, but Harry had insisted and she found his sense of fair play just one more reason to shower him with praise.

But that was all over now and the best part of the down time before the official end of the term was spending hours and hours with Ginny. They were rediscovering each other and it was one of the only times when Harry was completely at ease.

He'd gone to Diagon Alley with Lupin and Andre and a near riot had erupted within five minutes of his arrival. Harry knew people wanted to see him, but this was more than he was ready to deal with. He'd always been a topic of discussion. This however, was on a whole other level. The Order was still watching him, and as much as they meant to him, he was quite tired of being guarded and moved about like a parcel.

And then there was the question of his career. The Ministry had already sent him an official acceptance to the Auror training program. He knew Kingsley had sped up the process, as he'd been promoted to head the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry hadn't played in a Quidditch match in a year, but he still received offers from three professional league teams. He had a lot of decisions to make; and unfortunately, he'd soon have to leave the one place that afforded him any privacy to think things out.

Mr. Weasley had invited him back to the Burrow, but Harry did not want to intrude. Charlie would be staying indefinitely and the twins were going to move back home with their father, at least for a while. Bill and Fleur found a lovely place not terribly far from the Burrow and would be raising a family of their own, as they'd just told everyone they were expecting their first child. Harry knew he'd always be welcomed in their homes, but the Weasleys were still grieving and recovering. They deserved some uninterrupted time to themselves.

Harry gladly insisted that Lupin take up permanent residence at Grimmauld Place. He'd directed that funds be made available for its renovation. He hoped it would resemble the home he wished Sirius had actually known and it would definitely continue as headquarters for the Order. And it looked like Harry would be joining Lupin there, at least for the short term.

He had also started one other project and this one was probably dearest to his heart. He was rebuilding the house in Godric's Hollow. When he'd gone through all the Gringotts' paperwork, he discovered he actually owned the land on which the original house stood. It turns out what Mr. Gattling referred to as the house being haunted was nothing more than a few intricate Muggle Repelling Charms designed to deter any serious interest in the property.

Harry asked Jillian and Lupin to help him with the design and layout, since they both had vivid memories of what the house once looked like. It would not be an exact replica, but he wanted it to be a reminder of what was once there.

They were with him this morning in Godric's Hollow. Since there were other wizards and witches living in the village, he'd been forced to arrive beneath his Cloak. They didn't want to try and explain to the Muggle residents why he was being pursued like a celebrity. Harry was only free to walk about once he'd crossed beneath the huge construction tarps, the opening of which faced the Gattlings' property.

They'd been there perhaps an hour or so when Lupin looked up and waved in the direction of the Gattling home. Mrs. Gattling was peeking out her kitchen window and waving at Lupin, whom she recognized from last summer's visit.

"Now Harry," began Lupin, "are you sure about the fireplace?"

Harry had decided to keep the original fireplace, the one marked with spell and curse marks.

"Yeah, I am, Lupin," he answered.

"We could replace some of the stones," suggested Jillian.

"Nope," he said. "Leave it as is. I know it sounds a little weird, but I'm not bothered by it, not anymore."

And that was the truth. In an odd way, the marked fireplace made Harry feel closer to his father, to both his parents. And their portrait would hang front and center above the mantle. Harry had asked Dean to replicate the photo that was in the watch he'd inherited and Dean had been more than happy to honor his request.

"It's not at all weird," said Lupin empathetically.

A little while later, Harry, in jeans, t-shirt and a cap pulled low on his forehead, took a chance and walked next door and rang the bell. Mrs. Gattling opened it and stood in the doorway.

"Good morning, young man. Are you with the people next door?" she asked.

"Good morning," replied Harry as he pulled off his cap. "Yes, I am."

It did not take very long for recognition to set in and she brought both hands to her mouth, shaking her head slightly as if trying to convince her eyes that she wasn't seeing what was in front her.

"Oh my God," she said, looking at Harry. "Is it really you? Are you the Potters' son?"

"Yes, Mrs. Gattling," he answered. "I am. I'm Harry. I'm actually the one rebuilding the house. My parents' friends are helping me."

"I haven't laid eyes on you since the day before that horrible accident," she said, still shaking her head. "Oh heavens, you look just like them."

Harry smiled slightly.

"I'm so sorry, dear," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Forgive my rudeness. Would you like to come in? I'd love it if you could."

Harry looked over at Lupin and Jillian to let them know where he'd be and said, "Yes, I'd like that very much."

Mr. Gattling nearly tipped out of his seat when he saw Harry standing beside his wife in the solarium. But after his initial shock, they had a really pleasant visit. Harry gave them a sanitized and slightly altered version of his childhood and life, explaining that he'd been raised by his aunt and uncle. He told them he'd just matriculated from the same small, private boarding school that his parents had attended; and as he was soon turning eighteen, had decided to take part of his inheritance and repurchase the original home he'd lived in with his parents. They listened intently, asking questions here and there, but never prying for more than he was willing to share. The Gattlings turned out to be extremely nice people and Harry knew he would enjoy having them as neighbors.

By early afternoon, he was going over Jillian's designs for the front and back yards. Lupin was at a nearby table talking with carpenters. Harry was pleased with the progress on the house, but annoyed that he had to come even here, hidden and looking over his shoulder. Once the house was finished, Kingsley would help him set up security and wards; but for now, this was what Harry had to deal with.

It was Jillian who provided him with the possibility of a short reprieve.

"Harry," she said, "I'll be leaving at the end of next week."

"You will?" asked Harry, somewhat surprised. "She'd become such a part of his life, he'd not thought about her going back to her own home and her own life."

"Yes," she said, her eyes upon his. "Remus has all my final notes and recommendations for the house and can contact me at any time for additional input. But I'll be back at the end of August, most likely for good."

Harry couldn't help but grin, his relief evident.

"I'll be instructing, but not at Hogwarts," she explained. "The Ministry lost a lot of Aurors and Kingsley has asked me to help out. I'll be running the training program. Andre is coming on board, as well. Dad's decided to retire after all and he and Mom will be moving here in about a year or so."

"That's fantastic," said Harry, truly meaning it.

"Well, we'll see if you think so if you decide to join us," she said, with a devious grin playing at her lips.

"I haven't decided, yet," said Harry honestly. "I guess I'll need to make up my mind before long."

"Look, I know you've never been away from home," she started, "but how would you feel about coming stateside with me for a little while? I have to tie up some loose ends at home and Mom and Dad would truly love to meet you. Remus and Kingsley think it's a good idea. I can't promise you won't eventually be recognized, but it won't be nearly as insane as it is here right now. Maybe in a couple of months the frenzy will have died down to a more manageable level of chaos."

Harry stared at her.

"It's perfectly understandable if you'd rather not," she said.

The only thing that was giving him pause was leaving Ginny. But it would only be for two months. And Ginny knew he was going batty with all the unwanted attention. She would understand. He knew she would.

"I could ask Arthur to let Ginny join us for the last week or so," she said, reading his silence. "Ron and Hermione can come with her, if they like. Our parents have a large house with plenty of room. It wouldn't be a problem. Just think about it and let me know."

"I don't have to," Harry finally said. "I think it sounds great."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," said Harry.

She smiled broadly and said, "I'm glad. I'll talk to Kingsley and Remus again. And I'll clear things with Arthur and get everything arranged."

And she did exactly that.

On his last morning as a student at Hogwarts, Harry walked down to the kitchens to see Dobby. There'd been several visits since Harry had been in the hospital wing, but he'd been saving a surprise for this one.

"Dobby shall miss Harry Potter greatly," said the house-elf, his ears drooping with sadness. "Would it be all right if Dobby still visits Harry Potter, sir?"

"I've a better idea," said Harry and the tiny elf watched him curiously. "How'd you like to come and work for me? I've already cleared it with Professor McGonagall. You'd stay here through the summer and then move in with me when I return."

If he thought Kreacher had been overwhelmed at being allowed to live with Regulus, it was nothing compared to Dobby's reaction as Harry's words sunk in. He burst into tears of joy and it was all Harry could do to calm him down before he created a puddle in the middle of the floor.

"Is that a yes, then?" asked Harry once Dobby had come round.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Yes!" squeaked Dobby through a very wet smile.

"Good," said Harry, biting back a grin. "There's only one other thing to discuss and that's your wages. I think you need a raise and you are not allowed to refuse me."

Dobby looked shocked.

"Are we in agreement?" asked Harry, finally smiling and laughing.

Harry received one of Dobby's iron like hugs in reply.

And the last night before their summer departure was spent at the Burrow. Lupin, Kingsley, Jillian, Andre, Harry and Hermione joined the Weasleys for a much appreciated peaceful evening.

There was lots of news and Harry was not the only one with decisions to make.

Charlie was joining the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and Harry didn't think they could have picked anyone better qualified.

Hermione was seriously vying for a spot with the Department of Mysteries. Normally, they wouldn't even consider someone so young, but with input from Mr. Weasley, Kingsley and Scrimgeour himself, things were looking really good for her.

Fred and George had just asked Lupin to help them out with running their businesses. They had their eyes on a few other expansion possibilities and they knew the value of having a Marauder on their team.

And Ron, like Harry, was torn. The twins had invited Ron to join them, too. But Ron was also seriously interested in the Ministry's Auror program, especially after learning that Jillian and Andre would be joining the team.

Ron and Hermione pulled Harry outside after dessert, where they were met with happy barks and wet licks by Fang before he bounded away to chase gnomes.

"Are you sure you don't want us to come with you now?" she asked concernedly.

"I'm sure," he said, knowing they were both still a bit worried about how he was adjusting to everything that happened. "It's not like I'm not going to miss you or anything. But it won't be all that long until I see you."

They still looked unconvinced and Harry took an envelope from his pocket.

"And besides," he said, "if you're with me, you won't be able to enjoy this, will you?"

"What is it?" asked Ron.

"Open it and see," said Harry and he watched Ron's jaw go slack as he flipped through the contents.

"You are absolutely the best mate a bloke could have!" Ron practically screamed.

"What is it?" interjected Hermione, looking slightly alarmed.

"It's a month's holiday arrangements for both of you. You've been looking after me for seven years. I think it's about time you had some quality time to yourselves. Because it must have been really hard trying to fit in all those snogging sessions while fighting evil and helping me find and destroy Horcruxes," added Harry, watching as Hermione's cheeks flushed and Ron's ears turned bright red.

Harry laughed and so did they.

"I couldn't be happier for the two of you," he said sincerely. "So please let me do this for you. Just promise you won't kill each other while I'm not around."

"It's too much," said Hermione.

"No, it's not," said Harry, looking very seriously at both of them. "It never could be."

"Thanks," they both replied together.

Harry wasn't quite done bestowing gifts. Some he was still working out, but he'd arranged for a few others to arrive after his departure tomorrow.

An exquisitely crafted baby cradle, wardrobe and rocker would be delivered to Bill's and Fleur's new home tomorrow.

He had always felt awful about Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia that he and Ron crashed in their second year. There would soon be a new car waiting for him in the yard of the Burrow and Harry knew it would be bewitched by the time he returned.

And McGonagall would receive an owl from Gringotts notifying her of a generous contribution from Harry to the school fund set up to assist less fortunate students with educational expenses.

But there was still one more gift he planned to give this evening, and Ginny walked out into the yard just as his thoughts turned back to her.

"Umh, we'll let you say goodbye without an audience," said Ron, punching Harry lightly in the arm, while Hermione gave him a quick hug and kiss.

Harry took Ginny's hand and they walked about the yard and nearby fields.

"Thank you for being so great about me taking off so soon," he said.

"I know you'll be safe with Jillian and you need to get away," replied Ginny. "I'm amazed you haven't had an outright fit with all the people fighting to get at you. I suspect a lot of them just want to say thank you, but it's been a bit scary, really."

"Tell me about it," said Harry. "But it won't be for long and I can't wait until you come."

"That makes two of us," she said. "I'm really going to miss you, though."

"Well, I may be able to remedy a bit of that," he said and pulled a box from behind his back and handed it to her.

"Oh great," she said as she opened it, confusion clearing on her face. "It's a mirror."

She looked up and saw Harry grinning at her.

"True, but it's not just any mirror," he said and pulled out the second one. "It's part of a pair and you and I will be able to talk to each other in them everyday."

"You're kidding," she said.

"No, I'm not," he answered. "Dad and Sirius enchanted a set years ago when they were in school. I figured out how they did it and went out and bought this set."

"This is amazing," she said and walked into his arms.

Kingsley called out for him from the backdoor of the house about an hour later. It was time to go.

He and Ginny shared one last kiss goodbye and his hands lingered in her hair, brushing it back from her face and tracing the outline of her ears with his thumbs.

She looked up at him and asked, "Is there something wrong with my ears, Potter?"

Harry knew that one day he'd like to see them adorned with his great grandmother's earrings, but for now he smiled innocently and said, "No. They're just perfect."

In fact, at that moment, Harry thought things were well on their way to being as near perfect as he could hope for. A few months ago he wouldn't have allowed himself to hope for or dream about such things for very long. He'd certainly never had a traditional or normal upbringing. Harry had been largely defined by the tragedies in his past, but he was finally coming to terms with them. Now, for the first time in his life, he could honestly say he wasn't terribly worried about much of anything.

Like Luna had said, his life was never going to be the same again and he was quite all right about most of that. Harry had Ginny, his two best friends, a hodgepodge of extended family that meant the world to him and a future to which he was immensely looking forward.

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**A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love the characters in HP; but as you can tell, Sirius is definitely one of my favorites. I always felt bad about how soon Harry lost him. I wanted Harry to have some closure and peace in regards to Sirius. And of course, I wanted our hero to grow into the man we all knew he was going to be. **

**If you're not too tired from reading it (I know it's a little long), I'd appreciate any reviews and comments. All will be answered.**


	29. AN: Anonymous Reveiws

A/N: Thanks to each of you who have taken the time to submit reviews. I appreciate all your comments and opinions. I've replied back to each of you who have membership id #s. There were some anonymous comments that didn't include email addresses, so to each of you, as well, thanks again.

**Peruvianprincess:** Thank you so much for taking the time to read my fanfic and for the great review. I'm flattered and pleased that you liked it so much. It was a pleasure to write and I'm glad to know that you and others are enjoying it. I appreciate you recommending it to your sister, as well.

**Marie:** Thanks for the compliment and I definitely plan to keep writing.

**Brandon:** Your excitement is infectious. I look forward to your thoughts once you finish the story and thanks for the multiple comments on your favorite chapters, so far.

**Heather:** I appreciate the kind and thoughtful review. You made me smile as I read it because I have to tell you, I had the same concern about the use of "Lupin," instead of "Remus" when he interacted with the trio. It kept nagging at me because I couldn't remember Harry ever using his first name. As I wrote this last year, I searched through the end of POA and chapters and chapters in OOTP and HBP; and it seemed that Harry never used his name in direct conversation. Even in situations where Harry was describing him, it would read something like, "Sirius and Lupin looked shocked." So, I followed JKR's lead and took it one step further, actually using "Lupin" when they addressed him, since they never seemed to call him anything in actual dialogue with him. It was never intended to be formal or cold, just comfortably familiar. And then I laughed when DH came out, because it was finally on page 211 when Harry said, "I can't tell you that, Remus." So, four books later and Harry finally used the man's first name.  But I loved that you picked up on it and asked about it, because it is exactly the type of thing that would show up on my radar, too.


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